#i swear every season he just straight up disappear for long asses of time

[draftsandchains]

clownpierce loves his gone to get milk arc

[hogwartsandhawkins]

Prove Me Wrong

Chapter 1: Trouble With the Iliad

Prove Me Wrong Masterlist

Here's the official first Chapter of my Billy series! I posted a prologue to this series, and it's currently on my page if you still need to read it. Sorry for the trash writing. I'm currently finishing up my midterms so I didn't get a lot of time to proofread, but hope you like it!

Also, Eddie, Chrissy, and Jason are mentioned briefly. Even though they're not introduced till the fourth season and this series takes place right after the second, it just made sense that they would still be seen since they all went to the same school, so I had to give them honorary mentions lol.

Summary: You get paired with an unlikely someone for an English project.

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: Slight mention of blood, lots of swearing, Billy being a bully, other kids being bullies, let me know if I missed anything!

If anyone were to pay attention to Billy Hargrove, they would realize he would come peeling into the student parking lot at 8:15 am every morning. Never too early to be bunched with the nerds, eager to receive extra time with either an activity or class that morning, but early enough to make his presence known to everyone before class started at 8:45. Exactly thirty minutes is what Billy deemed the perfect time to do, well, whatever he wanted. Whether that be talking with Tommy, leaning against lockers that never belonged to them, checking out random girls as they walked past without Tommy’s on again off again girl, Carol, overhearing, or smoking a cigarette outside, by himself, propped on the hood of his car, ensuring he took particularly long drags when being watched. So it was no surprise that while Steve Harrington sat in his car with Jess Logan, attempting to convince her to do a portion of his physics project, the time changed to 8:15 on Steve’s gold Hamilton, and in came the perfectly polished blue Camaro. As Steve opened his door and dropped his left foot onto the pavement, mid-sentence of “what would be in it for her”, Billy eyed the empty spot next to Harrington’s car, whipped around, and backed into it, causing Steve to jump back into the car and slam his door. 

“Dude, What the fuck?!”

“Why don’t you wait your turn, Harrington?” He smiled devilishly at Steve, not breaking eye contact, practically begging Steve to start something. Max Mayfield eagerly exited the death trap muttering “sorry” and shaking her head in annoyance as she quickly dropped her board and skated away, glancing behind her for only seconds before she disappeared towards the middle school. Billy’s eyes began to move towards Jess, and at this, Steve moved in between his friend and the boy’s gaze, shouldering her bag as he said “let’s go”, not breaking eye contact with Billy until he began to walk towards the high school. 

Once they were out of sight, Jess looked back over her shoulder and shook her head in disbelief, “What an ass.”

“Yeah, I hear girls say that about Hargrove all the time.” 

“Oh GOD, not what I meant Steve!” Jess ripped her bag off his shoulder as he continued laughing at his own joke.

“I mean, it’s fucking Hargrove, you really expect him to ‘wait patiently’?” Steve raised his eyebrows, waiting for an answer, even though he had no need for one. 

Steve and Jess entered the hallways together, as they did nearly every morning, and headed straight to her locker, where Steve continued to pester her about his physics homework. “You’re already in advanced physics as a junior, so this stuff should be like cake for you. It wouldn’t be all of it, promise.” Steve leaned against the neighboring locker and gave her the best attempt at a pout he could produce, making Jess roll her eyes. 

“I’ll do the FIRST part of your lab. You should be able to do the rest once it’s started.” 

“Jess, what would I do without you?”

“Your own homework?” 

With this, Steve chuckled, pulled her into a hug, and walked away towards his own locker, yelling “See you at practice!” over his shoulder as he did. She yells the same right before she feels a shoulder shove into her own, causing the notebook she was holding to fall back into her locker. She looked to her left to find her favorite set of teenagers. To the far right, and the one who no doubt bumped her without apologizing, was Tommy, who had his left arm slung over his now on-again girlfriend, Carol, who was looking back at Jess, lollipop in hand and set between her teeth as she sized her up before looking forward again. To her left was none other than Billy Hargrove and another girl Jess recognized as Jane Dodds, a senior that was also on the cheer team. Jess quickly picked up the notebook, slammed her locker, checking it once it was closed to ensure it couldn’t be reopened, and hurried to her first class, not bothering to look back at them. 

“Have we seen what the prude’s wearing today?” Billy winced at the belittling nickname his friends had reserved for Jess. “I swear she hangs out with Wheeler too much. Wasted potential.” 

“I don’t see this potential you’re talking about, babe,” Tommy jabbed, “She dresses like that for a reason.” Billy chuckled at this, not because he found it funny, he rarely found anything that came out of Tommy Hagen’s mouth funny, but because it wasn’t even a week ago that he was practically drooling over Jess while she was in her uniform after school. “I don’t know though, what you think, B?” 

“Eh. She’s all right.” The truth was, Billy thought she was absolutely gorgeous. Her dark hair was always either swept back into the perfect ponytail she wore at practices or games, or was let down, where it bounced slightly below her shoulders. She was still able to keep a slight tan, even in the middle of November, which reminded him of home, and despite what Carol ever said, he liked the way she dressed. But for right now, ‘all right’ was enough to describe the way he felt about her. 

“Don’t know if we can call her a prude anymore though. She’s been hanging out with Harrington a lot since his breakup, and you know he was getting it in with Wheeler every night. Wonder what him and Logan are up to now.”

“Ew, Tommy! He told you that?” 

“Nah, but he didn’t have to. They were together, like, every day. Why else would he hang with her every day.” Tommy gave Billy a knowing look, which upset Carol, causing her to throw Tommy’s arm off her. 

“So you don’t like spending time with me then?” 

Thankfully, they reached Billy’s locker, giving him the excuse to break off. “See you guys,” but no one was listening as Tommy sped after Carol, trying to tell her she was being overdramatic. It wasn’t till Billy closed his locker that he realized Jane was still standing right beside him. Billy scrunched his eyebrows at the girl, confused as to why she was still there. She was Carol’s friend, not his. 

“She’s completely ruining the cheer team with her weird choreography. I’m not sure what Steve even sees in her.”

What was this bitch going on about? “Who?”

“The prude?” 

He couldn’t care less about anything going on in any cheer team, and quite frankly, couldn’t care less about anything going on in this girl’s life. All he knew is he needed to get to class. Jane looked up at Billy with hopeful eyes, wanting to start up an actual conversation with him, one that didn’t involve others, like Carol and Tommy, stealing the spotlight, making him laugh. Billy saw this, saw that she was ready to cling to every word he would say, but he was in no mood for this admiration right now, especially at the expense of someone who he didn’t find half bad, so he did what he normally would avoid doing when trying to sleep with someone, he spoke his mind. 

Billy began to smile and shake his head, looking straight into Jane’s hopefully eyes, and just as she started to smile back, he spoke. “Jesus, I don’t care about your little,” he paused, and gestured at her nonchalantly, waving his hand, “thing.” Jane dropped her smile, and so did he, looking at her only for a second more, then disappearing into the crowd, leaving Jane stranded at the locker, wondering what she did wrong. 

---

One thing Billy enjoyed about going to a small, shitty school was having to share the gym with the cheerleaders. Normally, they would only stretch in the gym and proceed the rest of fourth period outside. But seeing that it began to rain, the girls were forced to continue practice indoors, a decision members of each team were excited about. 

“Okay, as we can see, we have some guests this morning,” Coach looked at the cheerleaders with distasted, not because he had a dislike for them, but because every time they shared the gym, not much practicing went on. “and because we won’t be distraction-free, we’ll be doing a scrimmage for this morning’s practice. Hargrove, Harrington, start picking teams.” 

“Girls, you’ll be splitting up into two groups, keep them even. Logan, your group will be cheering for Harrington’s team, Stinnet, yours will cheer for Hargrove’s. I want to see you both working on the choreography. No standing still looking awkward. And stay. tight.”

Alicia Stinnet began to walk to the other side of the court, Jane and her best friend, Katie, following closely behind, wanting to cheer for whatever team Billy was on. Chrissy Cunningham stayed in place until Steve called for Jason Carver to be on his team. She then joined Logan and the rest, giving her boyfriend a thumbs up as she did so. 

“Cunningham, Logan, front and center.” Coach Dien had made both herself and Chrissy co-captains this year, making them both in the running for captain next year. At first, this excited Jess. She had been working hard every year in practice, but she only realized the amount of pressure that came with it when the season started, having her coach watch her every move like a hawk, handing out praises to Chrissy while criticizing everything Jess did. She was sure Chrissy was a shoo-in, and she was just an honorary mention. But she still took her place next to Chrissy, both of them exchanging smiles. 

“Alright boys. LET'S GO!” Billy and his team began to take their shirts off, making a show of it in the process, no doubt for the girls on their side. Katie and Jane began to blush, both looking at each other while suppressing giggles. Steve looked over at Jess and raised his eyebrows, making Jess roll her eyes in embarrassment for her team. He then began to roll his hips, pretending to also be taking his shirt off. 

“HARRINGTON, stop flirting.” His coach then blew his whistle, threw the ball in between both Steve and Billy, and quickly ran out of the way for Steve to win the tip-off, passing the ball to Jason. Jess and Chrissy began to cheer, but for different reasons.

“Go Jason!” “YES STEVE!!”

To say Jess loved watching Steve Harrington play was an understatement. She never missed a game, even if she wasn’t assigned to go and cheer at one, she would go just to watch him. Every time she cheered for him, she sounded less like a cheerleader, and more like a proud parent, making her coach give her a telling look to take it down a notch, sometimes going as far as to say it was ‘un-lady-like’, but Jess never cared, and Steve loved that about her.  Jess and Chrissy continued to lead their group through routines, cheers, even the new choreography Jess added, keeping their coach satisfied. They would occasionally cheer Steve and the others on his team on, making sure to keep in sync when doing so, that is until Steve scored his first basket. 

“That’s right, Steve! Nice follow-through!” Steve tried to hide the proud smile but failed as Jess continued to loudly clap. 

“Logan, you’re still at practice…”

“Sorry coach.”

Billy’s nostrils flared with determination, not ready to let Steve score another time, annoyed by the praise he was getting. Jane and Katie took this opportunity to cheer loudly for Billy, which earned Katie a wink from him.  Katie looked over at her best friend with excitement, hoping she would return the favor, but Jane just looked Katie up and down, wearing a half-assed smile and a gaze of absolute jealousy. Katie didn’t notice and turned her attention back to Billy, now even more excited to cheer for the blond. His new set of groupies gave him a deeper sense of conviction, and not wanting to let his fans down, he dribbled toward the basket, clotheslining Steve in the process, and making an easy lay-up.  

“Nice, Hargrove, keep it up.”

“What?! That was a foul! Steve’s feet were planted and…”

“Logan,” Steve’s coach didn’t need to look away from the game to know whom he was arguing with, and his warning tone told Jess she was going to lose said argument. 

“Logan! I don’t see a smile, and what did I say about staying tight? Good, Cunningham. Get those feet higher!”

Jess huffed in frustration, but of course, did as her coach said and put a smile on her face as she continued to practice, keeping her arms tighter than ever. Billy looked over at her and licked his bottom lip menacingly, “Looks like you’re cheering for the wrong side, princess.” 

Eventually, practice was over with Steve’s team leading by 7. Everyone was dismissed to their respective locker rooms after it was made clear that there would be no practice after school for either team. Something about a teacher’s meeting, but nobody seemed to care about the why. Everyone seemed to be in a good mood, besides Billy Hargrove, who was still sour from losing. 

“Hey, Harrington, maybe next time tell your girl to shut the hell up so we could focus, huh?” 

“Maybe next time make more of your shots.” 

Everyone in the boys' locker room stopped what they were doing and began egging on the two boys. Billy used the newly formed audience as more fuel to his fire and started walking closer to Steve, chest heaving in the process. 

“Alright guys knock it off, we’re a team an- “

“Shut up, Carver,” Billy turned his attention back to Steve, “you know, she’s real cute and all, but she’s a bit of an annoying bitch.” 

Steve continued to dry his hair and pulled on his shirt, responding with, “I’ll let her know you think she’s cute,” before making his way out of the locker room, unwilling to spend any more energy on the sore loser. 

Billy would continue to gripe about Steve’s personal cheerleader, but it wasn’t her that pissed him off, or even the fact that he had lost to Harrington. If he was being honest with himself, which he barely ever was, it was their relationship, it was the way that there were no ulterior motives behind her praises, no looks of lust, or fear, or longing to get his attention that Billy was used to. He didn’t know exactly what her look consisted of when she looked at Steve, all he knew is that he was jealous of it, of their friendship. And at the Byers’, he got a taste of what it was like to maybe be her friend, the way she just sat there and talked to him casually, the way she wasn’t afraid to speak her mind about his blood-stained teeth, it was different, refreshing. It wasn’t until she looked at him coldly and said the words, “we’re not friends” that it was ripped away from him, and he was stuck with the reality that all he had was Tommy Hagen, who‘s never had an original thought in his life, Carol Perkins, who would most definitely sleep with him behind Tommy’s back, Jane Dodds, who would talk shit about anyone, even her own best friend just to get Billy’s attention, Vicki Carmichael, who he didn’t even talk to, and whoever else went to the parties, the ones where he was never sober enough to remember any of their names the next day, and that would have to be enough. 

Jess waited for Steve outside the gym, laughing with Chrissy in the meantime. Once Steve came out to join her, however, Jess quickly stopped giggling and gave Steve a questioning look. 

“Hargrove.”

“Ah.”

“He says you’re cute by the way.”

Jess and Steve offered to stay behind with Chrissy while she waited for Jason, and by the time they all arrived at the cafeteria, it was already packed with hungry teenagers waiting in line for mediocre food. Once receiving what Jess believed was meatloaf and mashed potatoes, she and Steve slowly made their way to their table, passing a group who seemed to be filling out what looked like homework at first. 

“No, no I already told you, dex is where you want to put the 17, what’s a rogue gonna use strength for?” Eddie Munson seemed to be desperately trying to keep it together while coaching a new player on how to create a character. Eddie looked up for only a second and caught Jess’s eye, giving her a quick head nod, then turning his attention back to the stressed freshman. Jess tried to smile politely back but was too late as he was already flailing his hands above his head trying to explain skill points. 

“I can’t believe you used to be friends with him,” Steve said as Jess began to sit down next to Chrissy.

“Who? Eddie? I mean, I was in middle school, Steve. And plus, he was nice.”

“You know he was supposed to graduate last year?”

Jess rolled her eyes at Steve’s response. Like his not graduating on time affected how nice he was. 

“Oh hey, Jess, are you coming to the church activity tonight? We’re raking leaves for Mrs. Green tonight. She’s been having trouble since her surgery you know? And then afterward we’re going to read a few verses back at the activity center,” Chrissy then started speaking to Jess in a whisper, “You know, everyone misses you. We haven’t seen you in a while. No pressure, it would just be really cool if you went.”

“Oh, Chris, I’m sorry, but I’ve been really busy with school and everything. Physics is really kicking my a-butt and… I have a whole bunch of other homework. Maybe next time?” 

Chrissy’s smile went from hopeful to disappointed, but she nodded her head with understanding. “Yeah, next time!” 

Jess hated lying to Chrissy. Deep down Jess knew there would never be a next time, and she believed Chrissy knew that too, though she would hopefully never learn why. There was something that didn’t sit right with Jess after witnessing what really happened to 

Barbara, and Will being possessed by something other than the Devil, and El being able to manipulate the world around her. Jess had seen real evil, real demons, and they looked nothing like fallen angels. 

---

Seventh period couldn’t come soon enough. English was Jess’s favorite class of the day for the simple reason of there being no wrong answers. She loved being able to interpret texts the way she pleased. There were no formulas to direct her, no complicated steps to remember. It was just her, and whatever book was assigned for the time it was assigned for. The only problem with this class: Billy Hargrove. It wasn’t that he was an asshole during this period. He typically never spoke and sat in the back whereas Jess made it a point to sit at the very front. It had more to do with the staring, and though she wasn’t able to see him throughout the period, she could feel his eyes burning a hole in the back of her head.  However, she soon felt the discomfort from Billy’s gaze fade away as Mr. Crowley informed them of what they would be reading this next semester. 

“Now, because the Iliad is,” He then brought out a thick novel, making a majority of the class groan, “about 700 pages long, you will have all spring semester to read it and complete all projects and assignments. The Iliad is an epic poem written around 800 BC, so it might be hard to understand at times for… some of you, but that’s why I’m putting you in groups of two. Also, the school could only afford enough books for half the kids in your class, so there will be ONE book per group, so please, let the more responsible of the two keep it if you don’t mind. It’s important that you work together. There will be a quiz this Monday for the first chapter.” More groans followed. “It’ll be easy people, just to make sure you actually read the chapter this weekend. Once I call out your partners, get together and figure out a schedule to meet after school for, basically the rest of the school year.”

Mr. Crowley began calling out names, which began being drowned out by the moving desks of students joining their partners. 

“Darla Johnson, Jackie Williams.”

“Jessica Logan,” Jess began to get up to receive her copy from Mr. Crowley but stopped suddenly when she heard whom she was paired with, “William Hargrove.” Jess spun her head around to see if it really was him, and when she saw him leave his seat, she rushed over to Mr. Crowley to grab the book. 

“Mr. Crowley, about our partners, would it possible if-“

“No switching partners, Ms. Logan.”

Her classmates began to snicker, and Jess turned back around, red with embarrassment. Billy walked up to her and didn’t stop till they were toe to toe. “Where we sittin’, princess?”

Jess bumped him, walking back to her desk. Billy snapped at Jake Fieldway, using his thumb to point upwards, indicating he needed to get up, and then took his desk, scooting it so he was shoulder to shoulder with his new partner.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Sorry, Jocelyn.” Jess looked over at him, unimpressed. And there it was again, his shit-eating grin. “So tell me, what is your middle name.” 

“I’m not doing this with you, Hargrove, can we please just..”

“Figure out the dates I get to go over to your house?” Billy kept his grin and added a wink for good measure.

“Okay, that’s it.” Jess began to rise from her desk, about to demand a new partner, when Billy reached for her wrist, grabbing her hand instead. “Get off-“

“Wait, wait, just, sit down for a sec.” And Jess sat, though she didn’t understand it, she felt the need to hear Billy out. “Listen, I really need this grade, okay?” Billy’s voice was lower than a whisper, his eyes continued to look around to ensure there were no eavesdroppers, “I’m not exactly doing so hot in this class right now, and let’s be honest, you’re like the smartest kid in this class.”

“Oh I’m smart now? Not even a few hours ago I was an ‘annoying bitch’. And I’m not just gonna let you use me for a grade. Besides, wouldn’t you rather be paired with her?” Jess gestured toward Jane, who was ignoring her partner as he tried to plan study sessions and was looking over at their table longingly. 

“Jess, she's a senior, in junior English.”

"Oh, right..."

“Exactly, come on, you won’t be doing all the work, I’m not completely fuckin useless. I’ll be a great partner, promise.” And with this, Billy raised his eyebrows in question, dipping his head down and pressing his lips into a line, waiting for Jess’s response. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Jess contemplated this for a moment. It didn’t seem as though Mr. Crowley was going to allow her to switch anyway, and the promise that she wouldn’t be doing all the work like she normally did resonated with her. 

“Fine. But you better prove me wrong.” 

 “Hell yeah, that’s my girl.” 

“Absolutely not.”

“What? You like ‘princess’ better?”

“How about we stick with Jocelyn.” 

“Very funny.” Billy looked over at Jess while he fiddled with the pages of their shared book, “Sorry by the way.”

“For?”

“The ‘annoying bitch’ thing. But you were being pre-“ 

“Quit while you’re ahead, Hargrove.”  Jess grabbed the book from Billy’s fidgeting hands and turned to Book 1. Billy looked down at where she had turned, and his eyes began to widen. 

“Oh fuck.” 

This is going to be a very long semester.

---

Jess rushed out right when the bell rang, ready to complain to Steve about her misfortune. However, Billy was hot on her tail, calling out her name while maneuvering passed the desks everyone ‘forgot’ to put back. 

“Jess, hang on there, princess. We never talked about when we’d be meeting up. I mean, I didn’t get to finish reading, and it was just getting so good,” Jess rolled her eyes at this, something she figured she’d be doing often, “What’re doing tonight? Let me take you home and we can-“

“Can’t. I’m helping Steve with his physics homework tonight.” They just made it out to the parking lot, and as if on cue, Steve came rushing up to her with, Dustin? “What are you two up to?” 

“Ah, see I’m helping this guy style his hair tonight, you know, gotta keep the legacy alive. So I’m gonna head over to Henderson’s after I drop you off and-” 

“Well, would you look at that? Looks like your night’s cleared up.” 

Steve, refusing to acknowledge him with a response, looked over at Jess, and pointed at Billy, “What the hell is he doin here?”

“We have a project together,” Jess said with a tight-lined smile. “And what about the physics lab?” She tried to hint that she needed him to save her, to get her out of having to spend the first night of her weekend with Billy Hargrove, and continued to move her eyes from him to Billy, until he responded with, 

“Ah no, that’s not due till the last day before winter break, we’re good.” 

Jess stood there, mouth open, looking at who was supposed to be her best friend in disbelief. What good was a best friend that couldn’t even take a hint that she needed him to agree with her? Before she could encourage Steve to answer differently, Mike, Will and Lucas biked their way over to them.

“Dustin, come on let’s go.”

“I’m riding with Steve today, he’s doing my hair!” Dustin began wiggling his eyebrows excitedly. 

“What, why?”

“No but really, why?” Billy chimed in, “How often that kid wears caps, he’ll be bald within the week.”

Dustin dropped his smile and pulled off his hat, “What?! Steve??” 

“No, don’t listen to him, you’re not going bald. Hargrove shut it.”

“Wait, what’s going on?” Max rolled in on her skateboard, then kicked it up into her hands, “What did I miss?” 

“Dustin’s going bald!”

“No, Mike, Dustin is not going bald. I’m taking him over to his house and I’m… teaching him how to do his hair, man that sounds ridiculous the more I say it.”

“OOOO can I come? I wanna see how stupid he ends up looking.” Max then looks at Billy pleadingly. 

“You go if Jess lets me take her home.” 

All eyes were now on Jess. She happened to catch the three boys on their bikes, shaking their heads at her, warning her not to do it, but then she looked over at Max and the eager look she had. They would have to meet up this weekend eventually. So against her better judgment, she looked at Billy and said, “Fine.” 

“Jess, you sure? I mean, we could always do the lab if you wanted to start early-“ 

Jess looked over incredulously at Steve, “A little too late for that, Steve.”

Lucas, Mike, and Will looked over at Billy, then Jess, with worry covering their features, the night of November 5th still fresh in their minds, but eventually biked away with Lucas shouting, “Henderson’s anyone?” The rest of the boys laughed and all agreed to go straight to his place.

Steve then started entering his car, with Max getting in the back while Dustin stuffed his bike in 

Steve’s trunk. He gave Jess a look, and asked, “You’re sure?”

Jess nodded and added, “It’ll be fine.”

Steve looked over at Billy, and then back over at Jess, giving her a look to wish her luck. Dustin then entered the passenger seat and began looking into the passenger mirror.

“Steve! I see a spot!” 

“Oh my god, where?!” Max responded excitedly.

“For fuck’s sake, Dustin, you’re not going bald!” Steve slammed his door right after giving Billy a dirty look and then sped off. 

After Steve's car was out of view, she turned back to Billy, who was already getting into the driver's side. Jess then entered his car as well, which smelled of cigarettes, cologne, and something else she couldn't make out. Without looking at her, he put his keys in the ignition, leaning one elbow out his window.

“Alright, where to princess?”

[mercy-burning]

Petite Etoile

Pairing: Spencer Reid x femReader Summary: BAU!Reader used to be a stripper, and when people where she used to work are being murdered, the team is called in to investigate. Category: Fluff, Smut 18+ (oral sex- male and female receiving, penetrative sex, Reader also does a stripping performance) Warnings: Sex, language, mentions of murder/violence and all the things you’d normally find in an episode of Criminal Minds. (As always, if there’s anything I missed, let me know what I should include in warnings! I want to be as mindful as I can about what I post. Thank you!) Word Count: 7.8k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: This is going up way later than I said it would, so I’m sorry if you were looking forward to this, I just haven’t been motivated lately. But  I really have to get out of my writing slump, and I’m hoping I can do that soon. Anyway, I hope you like it! Thanks for reading 🥰 Also, I know that Don’t Blame Me by Taylor Swift doesn’t exist at the time of early season 2, which is when I imagine this taking place, but for the sake of the story let’s pretend it does, because that’s the song I had in mind when I wrote the performance scene 😉😂

***

When Y/N walked into work Thursday morning, everything was as normal as it could be. She chatted with Elle on her way up the elevator, handed JJ her coffee as she made her way to Hotch's office, and ruffled Reid's hair when she passed him, smiling at the way he blushed at her affectionate gesture.

But when the team was called into the round-table room, and she watched as JJ presented their next case, Y/N felt a little sick to her stomach.

Over the past week, three strippers from the town she'd lived in for years before moving to Virginia had been found stabbed in various parts of the block surrounding Starsight. She knew the place well. Not only did she used to work there as a stripper after she graduated, but her best friend, Irene, owned the establishment, and she'd practically become the sister Y/N never had. She helped her through college and pushed her to go into the Bureau. If people, Irene's people, were dying, why hadn't she called or said anything?

Thankfully Y/N didn't recognize any of the dancers who'd been killed, because if she had, she'd feel a lot worse. But even still, she wanted to find who was behind it, and she would. The BAU always did. And with her background knowledge of the scene and the town, Y/N figured she might be able to lend an extra helping hand.

But first she had to tell the team about her past.

It wasn't a secret that she used to be a stripper. In fact, it wasn't really something she was able to hide. With someone as curious as Penelope Garcia in her life, Y/N wouldn't have been able to hide it even if she wanted to. Thankfully though, besides the occasional teasing comment from Morgan, and sometimes Elle, the team didn't treat her any differently. She wasn't Y/N The Former Stripper, she was just Y/N. She was good at her job, and everyone respected and liked her just the way she was.

While debriefing on the jet, she was about to bring it up when Morgan did it first, seemingly sly like he'd discovered some big secret. "Hey, Y/N, didn't you used to live near this place?"

She nodded, clearing her throat. "Uh, yeah, that's actually what I was going to bring up. Starsight is where I used to work before I moved here. I know the owner of the place, she's one of my best friends."

She could tell Morgan wanted to tease her some more about her previous work, but before he could get a word in Gideon spoke from behind her. "Irene Whitcomb?"

"Yeah."

"Good, when we land I want you, Morgan, and Reid to go talk to her. See if you can find anything out."

Y/N nodded, and in front of her, she noticed Reid was a little flushed. It didn't surprise her considering when everyone found out her previous job, he almost choked on his coffee, and Morgan laughed hysterically while he had a coughing fit. It was obvious to Y/N from the beginning that Spencer had had a little crush on her, and it didn't bother her at all. Every once in a while she'd pat his knee before she got up from her seat next to him or wink at him as they saw each other briefly in passing, just to see how he'd react, and by now it was a staple of their relationship. It never did go any further than that though, Y/N afraid she might make him too uncomfortable.

But even still, she couldn't help but give him a flirty smile as he blinked rapidly in front of her, still seeming to process what was going to happen when they landed. When he excused himself to go to the bathroom, she gave him one more wink and a small bite of her lip as he passed.

Morgan laughed softly beside her. "You're gonna ruin the poor kid if you keep that up, girlie."

"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about," she responded, even though the smile on her face suggested otherwise.

***

A strip club being almost at full capacity in the middle of the day was more common than one might think. It had surprised Y/N when she first started working at Starsight, and even now she still didn't really understand why. Regardless it was almost 3pm, and if things had stayed the same over the years, which by the looks of things seemed to be the case, Irene should have been behind the bar.

It must have been a sight to behold, Y/N mused as she and her colleagues navigated through the club in search of its owner, and it sounded like the beginning to a bad joke— a former stripper turned FBI agent, a guy who looks like he just walked straight out of a procedural cop show, and an adorably and obviously nervous skinny kid with glasses and trembling hands walk into a strip club at 3pm... The thought made Y/N laugh to herself, right before Irene spotted her.

"Y/N!"

It was obvious that she wanted to jump over the bar and give her old friend a hug, but given the circumstances, Irene settled for dropping a shot glass, spilling the drink on the counter, and clapping her hands quickly a few times in succession. A wide smile and kind eyes greeted the three agents as they approached.

"Irene, hi," Y/N greeted with a large smile of her own. "I wish I could have came to visit under better circumstances."

"Right, me too..." The blonde woman's smile faded for a second, just long enough that the recognizable signs of grief came and go quickly before replacing themselves with bittersweet niceties. "Anyway, you wanna introduce me to your friends?"

"Yeah, Irene, these are my colleagues, Derek Morgan and Spencer Reid."

Irene reached out to shake their hands, eyeing up Morgan with only the slightest bit of shame, and laughing softly at Reid's polite avoidance of the gesture as he settled on a wave and a shy smile.

"We were hoping to ask you a few questions about the past week," Morgan said.

"Yeah, anything. Just give me a minute to clean this up and we can sit down."

***

"So, you used to work here?"

Y/N laughed, kicking Derek under the table. "Yep. Looks exactly the same as when I left, too. Only difference is that I'm not here to bring everyone in on Friday nights."

As Derek laughed, Spencer tensed up beside Y/N, and he started to play with his hands under the table they all sat at.

"She's not joking," Irene said as she approached the table with a smile. She took the seat next to Morgan and gave him a wink. "Petite Etoile over here was the main attraction."

Y/N groaned a little. "Oh, c'mon Irene, don't use my nickname here, that's not who I am anymore."

"Don't tell me you've lost your shine, Little Star." From the tone in her voice to the look on her face, it was clear to Y/N that Irene was just as devious as she'd been since the day they first met. "You know it would just break this town's heart."

"I highly doubt that... Besides, this little star shines just as brightly as it used to, thank you very much."

At that statement, Y/N felt Reid's knee hit the table with a loud thud. As Morgan questioned whether he was okay, she wondered what was running through his head. It didn't last long though, because shortly afterwards Morgan started asking questions about the case.

"Was it particularly crowded on the nights the dancers were killed?"

Irene hugged her arms to her stomach, her eyes drooping a little at the mention. "It gets pretty crowded every night to tell you the truth. But Friday nights are busiest. The nights Carrie, Lola, and Evelyn disappeared were just like any other night here."

"I know how hard it is to keep track of everyone, but is there anyone you might have noticed that seemed a little too lurk-y?" Even as she asked the question, Y/N felt like she already knew the answer.

And Irene really did seem to try to recall something, anything that could help, but she was visibly frustrated, tears welling in her eyes. "No, Y/N, I'm so sorry. After Carrie... the first time... we heightened security and everything, but it just wasn't enough, I... I don't know what to do."

Y/N reached across the table to grab her friend's hand. "It's okay, 'Rene. We're gonna figure this out, alright? I promise you."

Through tears, the blonde smiled and squeezed Y/N's hand. "I know you will, Little Star."

"Would it be possible for us to look at your surveillance tapes?" Reid asked quietly.

Irene looked up at him and nodded, still squeezing Y/N's hand. "Anything you need."

***

"So... Little Star, huh?"

Y/N rolled her eyes with a smile as she, Morgan, and Reid got into the car. When she got in the passenger seat, she waited for Morgan to be in the car before responding. "Oh, don't start. I swear to God, Derek, if you start calling me that I might just have to kick your ass."

"Well, you gotta at least tell me how you got the name?" he laughed, putting on his seatbelt while Reid climbed in the back.

"Well, how do you think? The place is called Starsight after all... So, Petite Etoile just made sense."

It was obvious that she was lying to get him to drop it, so Morgan kept pushing. "Okay, sure, but that's not the whole truth. Carrie, Lola, and Evelyn didn't have star names."

"Ugh, okay, fine, if I tell you will you shut up about it?"

"Promise."

Y/N caught a glimpse of Reid in the back through the rearview mirror. As expected, he was fidgety and just a little red.

She sighed and waited until Morgan pulled out of the parking lot to talk. "Okay. Once every month Starsight does a 'Midnight Sky' theme night. They light the place up in deep blue lights and everyone wears... space-themed outfits. Every dancer does their own special routine with songs and outfits that they pick on their own. My first time working a theme night, everyone seemed to really like what I did; I ended up doing an encore later in the night before we closed. Another dancer who worked with us at the time, Jenny, was learning French, so after my performance she called me Petite Etoile, and it just stuck."

"Okay, but why did you get the nickname and no one else?" Morgan asked with a smug smile. He knew she was still holding something back.

"Do you really want to know?"

"Yes, Y/N, I really want to know."

She sighed. "Let's... just say my outfit was... well, it barely covered me, and what it did manage to cover was covered by fabric in the shape of stars."

While Morgan laughed, Y/N looked in the mirror to see Reid with his head low, even more red than he was before. He was biting his bottom lip and fiddling the the seatbelt strap, and when his eyes briefly met hers in the mirror he was quick to avoid eye contact once again. If Y/N didn't find it completely adorable she would have felt more badly about it. But just to make sure, she called out to him.

"Reid, you okay back there?"

He looked up to meet her eyes again through the mirror, but only briefly before trying to ook anywhere else. "O-oh, yeah, I'm... I'm good."

Morgan laughed. "Yeah, I bet you are."

Y/N punched him in the arm and met Reid's eyes once more. "Sorry."

"Oh, you don't have anything to be sorry about, it's... it's okay, really, I-I'm not... it's..."

"Hey, don't worry about it," Y/N said calmly, giving him a reassuring smile. "We're all good here, right?"

"Right," Morgan and Reid said one after the other.

"Good. Now let's catch this creep."

***

Unfortunately no one had gotten much of anywhere in the next few hours. The security footage showed a man following each of the girls out of Starsight but there wasn't anything distinctive about him. Somehow he'd avoided all the cameras face to face, so he knew where they all were. And as for how he chose which dancers to target they weren't sure.

Until Irene walked into the station, that is.

"Y/N, I completely forgot something! I can't believe I missed it."

She stood before the team in the office that the station had given them for the time being, everyone else sitting down. Y/N stood up and nodded. "What is it?"

"Carrie, Lola, and Evelyn were all Spotlight Performers."

"What does that mean?" Elle asked from behind them.

Y/N turned to the group, her arms crossed. "Every other night Starsight spotlights a different dancer for a large performance at the end of the night, sort of like a grand finale before the club closes."

"So you're saying each of the girls was the Spotlight Performer on the nights they went missing?" Hotch asked, more like a clarification than a question.

"Yeah, Carrie on Saturday, Lola on Monday, and Evelyn on Wednesday," Irene said frantically.

Y/N reached out to grab her hand. "Well, it's Thursday. So, if he sticks to pattern, he's going after tomorrow's Spotlight Performer. Who do you have lined up?"

"Well, no one yet. After the murders the girls have been hesitant to schedule, and I don't blame them... So what should I do?"

Before Y/N could answer, Hotch did. "Y/L/N, you haven't gone undercover before, but I think it would be a good idea. You used to work at Starsight, you could lure him out."

She turned around sharply. "Oh, I... I don't know, Hotch, I haven't danced in so long, I'm not sure I—"

"He's right," Gideon interrupted. "It's the best chance we have at catching him."

Between Hotch and Gideon's opinions on the matter, Y/N knew she didn't have a say anymore.

"You still know your routine, Petite Etoile?" Irene asked, only slightly amused.

"Petite Etoile?" Elle wondered aloud.

Y/N heard Morgan laugh and she sighed.

***

"If I didn't know any better I'd say you were nervous," Irene said as she straightened another piece of Y/N's hair.

She played with the hem of the sheer robe she was wearing. "Well, I'm about to go undercover for the first time, stripping for the first time in years in front of all my colleagues so I can lure out a serial killer, so I guess you could say I'm a little nervous."

"Well... When you put it like that..."

Y/N looked up at her friend. "I'm sorry, Irene. Really, I'm okay, and we will get him, I promise."

"No, I know you will. I'm not worried. So... Who do they have watching you tonight?"

"Gideon and Hotch are outside, but Elle, Morgan, and Reid are in here with me. There are some extra officers all around the block, too, just in case."

"Hmm," Irene mused, and Y/N could tell she wanted to say something.

"What?"

"I don't know, it just surprises me they'd send Reid in here of all people. He seems almost more nervous than you."

Y/N laughed. "Well, when it comes to girls he gets a little nervous, but... he's good at his job."

"I'll take your word for it. But I also wouldn't be surprised if he short circuits when he sees you up there."

The thought made her smile a little, though she wondered how badly Morgan would tease him about the whole situation. Things between them all would no doubt be a little awkward for a while, but in no time they'd go back to normal like it never happened. At least that's what she told herself, because she wasn't sure what she'd do if her friendship with Reid was permanently damaged and awkward because of her past. The thought worried her just a little, but before she could get too psyched out, a knock at the door brought her back to reality.

"Y/N, it's Elle."

"Come on in!"

Y/N got up from the chair and turned around to meet Elle in the doorway. Her eyes wandered for a moment before nodding with a smirk. "Damn. Petite Etoile indeed."

Despite the nerves, Y/N smiled. "You here to give me an earpiece?"

Elle nodded and closed the door behind her. As she turned on the device and handed it to Y/N, she spoke. "You nervous?"

"A little, but it's just because I haven't done this in a while. Not to mention I'm doing it in front of everyone, and I'm luring out the unsub."

"No pressure, right?"

Y/N laughed, adjusting the earpiece and taking a deep breath. "It'll be fine. How long until I go on?"

"Five minutes. I'll be near the front with Reid. Morgan is in the back with a few officers, and everyone else is outside. We all have communication with you, so if we see him we'll let you know what to look out for."

"Got it."

"Y/L/N, can you hear me?" It was Hotch's voice through the earpiece.

"Yeah, loud and clear."

"Good. We're all in position. Whenever you're ready."

***

Elle met him near the front of the stage. To say he was nervous would be an understatement. Spencer didn't have a problem with strip clubs in the least, but it was bad enough that he'd thought about Y/N on multiple occasions in his dreams, now he was going to have to see her stripping just like he'd imagined many times over. The whole situation spelled out disaster, and if she didn't already know he had a crush on her, she most certainly would when the night was over.

As Elle approached him, he took a deep breath and stretched out his hands to calm his nerves. "She okay?"

Elle nodded. "Ready to go. I'm gonna stand on the other side of the stage, keep a look out for anyone who seems like he could be our guy."

"Right."

Before she left, Elle patted him on the shoulder and smiled knowingly. "Oh, and Reid... Try not to get distracted."

Yeah. He was fucked.

When the music that was playing stopped and the lights started to shift, Spencer took another deep breath. Irene's familiar voice came through the speakers.

"Thank you for coming to Starsight. Tonight's Spotlight Performer is a special one. Returning to the stage for the first time in years, shining brighter and better than ever before, give it up for our very own little star, Petite Etoile!"

A deep, seductive song that Spencer didn't recognize replaced Irene's voice as the lights shifted again, and the crowd around him applauded. It was just as crowded as it had been when he, Morgan, and Y/N met Irene the day before, but with a serial killer no doubt present and Y/N about to come on stage, everything felt heavier.

A dark silhouette broke through fog on the stage, and even though Spencer knew it was Y/N, it didn't feel real. He'd only ever seen her at work, in work clothes, and sometimes in casual clothes when they all went out for drinks on occasion.

So when she finally came into view, her hair tumbling down her back and shoulders rather than in a ponytail, and wearing almost nothing at all, he wasn't even sure it was her for a split second. But the way she looked, her magnetic presence and the way she carried herself across the stage was so remarkably her it was hard to miss. Everything about her confidence was elevated in that moment, and his own confidence—in his job and ability to function as a human being—was completely shattered when she caught his eye. It was just a split second, but that was all it took.

She must have noticed, because she gave him a small smile and a wink before turning her attention to the rest of the crowd as the music built. Spencer cleared his throat softly before glancing around, trying his best to scan everyone for anything suspicious. When he was sure there was nothing around him to be concerned about, he reluctantly let his eyes wander back to the stage.

By now Y/N had rid herself of the sheer robe that was on her, leaving her in a deep blue one-piece... contraption was the only word he could come up with. It was all connected by thin straps of fabric that weaved around every curve of her body, crisscrossing and leaving little to the imagination. Just like she'd described back in the car yesterday, small patches of fabric shaped like stars covered the front of her breasts and...

The second he looked down, she squatted, spreading her legs open and rolling her hips, exposing almost the entire front three rows of people to her barely-clothed pussy.

Spencer felt his cheeks grow warm as he quickly averted his gaze and pretended to survey the crowd again. To his credit, he did really search for anyone who could be the unsub, but the whole time he heard the song and the cheering crowd, and in turn Y/N occupied almost every corner of his brain.

When he finally had the courage to look at the stage again, she was making her way to a chair in the middle. Every step was on beat to the music and purposeful. She danced around the chair for a bit before another big beat drop in the song happened, and she squatted in front of it quickly, rolling her hips as she slowly got up.

Her eyes found his once more as she mouthed along to the words of the song, almost like she was singing directly to him. He wouldn't have thought anything of it, but she held his gaze for much longer than he'd been able to handle, and she knew exactly what she was doing. Which was made evident when she bit her bottom lip and ran her hands down her body, stopping at her knees before she sat in the chair and spread her legs, her hands finally dragging along the insides of her thigh.

Her eyes remained on him the entire time.

Butterflies immediately erupted in his stomach at her intensity, stronger than they'd ever been before. He'd always felt it when she affectionately ruffled his hair or patted his knee in passing, but now? She wasn't even touching him and he was about to crumble to the ground.

Thankfully something in his ear saved him from that. "I've got a visual." It was Morgan. "He's in the back, black long sleeve and jeans. Buzzcut. Y/N, look up at me and blink three times when you see him."

Reid looked up and and noticed her doing it. To anyone else it wouldn't have seemed out of pace, but he could tell she was a little rattled. In any case, she broke contact with Morgan and continued on with her performance as if nothing happened.

Though it meant there was most definitely a serial killer in the room and he would follow Y/N out of the club later, Spencer was glad for the past minute, because he wasn't sure how much more of the performance he could take. Suddenly there was a job to focus on again, and he was thankful for that.

***

"You're sure you're okay?"

Y/N laughed as she approached her motel room, phone in hand. "Yeah, Irene, I'm okay. Promise. He got a hold on me but my team was there to stop him before he did anything. No nicks or bruises or anything."

"Okay... You were great out there by the way. If you weren't such a kick-ass FBI agent now, I'd ask you to come back."

Laughing, she turned her head and noticed Reid at the end of the hall, walking to his room. He caught her eye and gave a shy smile before disappearing behind the door and closing himself off from her. She contemplated a moment before starting her journey to his room. "Well, I'm glad we could help. Maybe if I find myself in town again, I'll stop by."

"Yeah, you better. Though I'd prefer if a serial killer wasn't involved."

"You and me both. I'll come see you before we leave tomorrow morning, yeah?"

"Yeah. Goodnight, Petite Etoile."

With an affectionate roll of her eyes, Y/N nodded though her friend wouldn't be able to see. "Night."

She hung up and put the phone in her bag, taking a deep breath before knocking on Reid's door.

The answer was almost immediate. He stood before her, and it looked like he'd just gotten undressed, wearing grey pajama bottoms and a white tee shirt. "Oh, Y/N, h-hi," he stammered, pushing his glasses up his nose a little. "What's up?"

"Do you... mind if I come in? I know it might sound a little weird but I don't really want to be alone right now..." It was true. Though she was okay after catching the unsub, the idea of being alone after everything that happened was sure to leave a small ache that wouldn't let her sleep, and having company would make a good cure.

"Oh, no, that isn't weird at all. Uh, sure, come on in." He stepped aside and opened the door wider to let her through. She smiled gratefully as she passed him, careful to notice the faint color that adorned his cheeks.

When he closed the door behind them, she set her bag down on the floor and turned to meet him, playing with the sleeve of the FBI jacket she was wearing. Before leaving Starsight, she'd changed into underwear, leggings, and a thin tee shirt. She debated taking the jacket off, but knowing how much of her body her colleague and friend had no doubt seen that night, she figured for his sake she'd leave it on. At least for now.

"I know it's late and we should probably get to bed, but... Truthfully I don't know how well I'll be able to sleep."

Spencer seemed concerned. "You're... you're okay? He didn't hurt you badly, did he?"

"Oh! No, he didn't, I'm just... rattled, that's all. I'll be okay, really. It's just that I haven't... performed in a long time, and all of that added on to being serial killer bait was just... eventful. That's all."

"Well, if it makes you feel better, you were great."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, a small smirk playing at her lips. "Oh?"

"Oh, I mean at handling the unsub. Not that you weren't great at the other thing, of course! I just... I just meant that... I didn't mean... Um..."

"Hey, it's okay, I'm... I'm not mad or anything, I'm... flattered."

The redness on Spencer's face became more vivid under the dim glow of the room. "I- Really?"

Y/N smiled and took a step closer. "Mhmm. Y'know... Truthfully it was really hard for me not to look at you the whole time. Out of everyone in that whole room, I wanted to see only you."

His gaze wandered up and down her body briefly before meeting her eyes. "You did?"

"Mhmm," she said again. Her hand reached out to graze his bare arm, and he shivered under her light touch. "You can stop me if this is too weird, but... I really like you, Spence... Like, a lot. And, I think it's pretty obvious that you like me, too. Am I wrong?"

He swallowed. "Um... No. You're not wrong."

She was only inches away from him now, her hands gently caressing his shoulders and chest. She looked up at him through her eyelashes and smiled. "Do you want to kiss me as badly as I want to kiss you right now?"

"Um... T-truthfully I think I might want... to kiss you more..."

Y/N laughed and balled his shirt in one hand, the other snaking up to the back of his head and running through his hair. "Okay, then... You gonna prove it, or what?"

He bit his lip softly before leaning down and capturing her lips in a kiss that made her dizzy. Her hands tightened their grip on him, and the second her lips parted, he wasted no time gently swiping his tongue across her bottom lip, his confidence growing with every second. She groaned into him, pulling her body flush against his and forcing him to wrap his arms around her waist to keep steady.

They pulled away for air eventually, and by the gleam in his eyes when she looked at him, she knew exactly what she had to do.

"No one is rooming with you, right?"

"N-no. It's just me."

"Good." She whispered it seductively as she removed her hands from him and slowly unzipped her jacket, keeping eye contact with Spencer the whole time. Except, of course, when his eyes glanced down to see the progress the zipper was making. Once she slid it off her shoulders and let it drop to the floor, he took her in, his tongue dancing behind his lips.

She let him have a few more seconds before taking a step forward and kissing him again, both of her hands cradling his face and bringing her thumbs to gently rub his cheeks. He melted into her completely, wrapping his arms around her again in no time. While their kisses were slow and passionate for a minute, eventually they grew hungrier, and Y/N hadn't even realized they'd been moving until they were toppling onto the bed, Spencer falling back and her landing on top of him.

They broke apart only for a moment to adjust themselves, but went right back to each other once Y/N straddled his legs and he leaned back on his hands to keep himself upright.

Her hands played in his hair as she kissed him, each brush of her tongue against his sending him into a downward spiral. He'd only ever dreamed of this, and even then, this was better than any dream. Y/N herself was better than any dream.

She ground her hips against him, causing him to groan into her mouth, and he pushed himself forward to be closer, needing to be completely wrapped up in her for as long as he could. When she pulled her mouth from his and settled her hands on his shoulders to keep him from moving, he whined a little, the sound completely taking the both of them aback.

She smiled and cocked her head to the side. "I've thought about this for so long... You have no idea how many times I've wanted to kiss you since we met."

"Really?"

With a nod, Y/N toyed with the collar of his shirt, tugging it and slowly grinding her hips against him again. "Have you ever thought about it?"

It was a question they both obviously knew the answer to, but she wanted to have some fun. She loved seeing how shy he got, it made her want him even more.

"Yes... I... I think about you a lot," he breathed, blinking at her as she slid her hands down his chest and found the bottom of his shirt. She smiled and raised it up, her touch sending shivers all over his body.

"What have you thought about? Any specifics?" she asked once his shirt was all the way off. Her fingers found their way to his neck again as she pulled herself closer.

"Oh, I... Um... I-I've thought about... kissing you on the jet in front of everyone."

Y/N smiled and pushed his glasses up his nose, then traced her finger down over his lips and hooked it under his chin to tilt his head up, exposing his neck. "I've thought about that, too... You know what else?"

Spencer blinked at her, urging her to continue.

She leaned forward and kissed the underside of his jaw, then his neck, leaving small kisses in between every soft word. "I've thought about how good your hands would feel on me." Her hand grabbed one of his and brought it to rest on her side, slipping under her shirt. "Have you ever thought about touching me?"

"Yes," he breathed as she moved her mouth back up his jaw and to the corner of his mouth.

She brought her lips just inches from his, and he could feel them just barely as she spoke. "Do it. Please."

And then she let go of him, bringing both her hands to his face as she kissed him again. Her legs wrapped around him tighter as he used both of his hands to grip her sides. As soon as they knew they were stable enough not to fall backwards, Spencer slid his hands slowly up her torso and barely ghosted over her breasts. She could tell he was a little hesitant, so she pushed further into him, practically trapping his hands in between their chests. Her kisses grew deeper and more desperate as he palmed her breasts, letting a moan or two slip out to encourage him further.

Thankfully it worked, because with every passing second he got more confident with his touches. When Y/N moved her hips against his again, he sighed into her mouth and brought one of his hands out from under her shirt and to her head, running his fingers through her hair.

At this point he was noticeably hard beneath her, and she was desperate to feel more of him. So Y/N peeled herself away from Spencer and snuck her hand down to play with the waistband of his pants. "You wouldn't happen to have a condom on you, would you?"

"Oh, uh, a-actually Morgan gave me one as a joke last week. It's, uh, in my wallet. In my bag."

Y/N laughed. "Sounds like him. Why don't you go grab it."

He nodded as she got up off of him. While he walked over to his bag, Y/N quickly removed her shirt and leggings, leaving her only in a pair of thin black panties that were almost too small. Before he turned around, she sat back on the edge of the bed and spread her legs wide, leaning back on her elbows as she waited.

If she didn't know any better she would have thought that when he turned around, his eyes were going to fall out of his head. He took small steps towards the bed, and she made the 'come here' motion with her finger. "Take your pants off for me?"

He all but scrambled to get them off, and Y/N smiled affectionately at him as she watched, hoping to calm his nerves by letting him know that he had nothing to be nervous about.

But just to be sure, she told him as much anyway. "You've got nothing to worry about, Spence. Trust me, I... I want this."

Once his pants were off, he met her at the edge of the bed, standing in between her legs. "I do too, I just... It's just that I've only ever... done this before once, and... I'm not very experienced, and I don't want to disappoint you."

Y/N sat up and grabbed his hips, leaning forward to press small, soft kisses to his stomach as she looked up at him. "You could never disappoint me. Promise."

Once she was sure he was a little more relaxed, she moved her kisses lower, until they reached the waistband of his underwear. She hooked her fingers under it and slid them down slowly, keeping eye contact with him until they dropped to the floor. Only then did she look down at his dick, and it was even better than she imagined.

Giving a satisfied hum, she pressed a soft kiss to the tip and fluttered her eyes up to meet his, the look on his face completely awe-struck. She took the tip of his dick in between her lips and sucked gently, swirling her tongue around it as she watched his mouth fall open, a sigh escaping. She could tell he was holding back a little, so she traced her finger along the length of him and kept sucking lightly at the tip, hoping to get some noise out of him.

Y/N took him in her mouth completely, bobbing her head up and down just a few times to get him wet before removing her lips with a pop. When she gripped him firmly with one hand and steadily began to stroke him, he finally gave her what she hoped for.

"Y/N," he groaned, just above a whisper. His eyes were closed, but he opened them when she stopped.

"You wanna put it on or should I?" she asked.

"Spencer turned the small packet over in his hand before nodding. "I can do it."

Y/N scooted farther onto the bed and slid off her panties as he got to work, and thankfully he wasn't as nervous anymore. He moved to take off his glasses, but she stopped him. "Keep them on?"

The devious grin on her face made him blush, and he nodded, crawling over the top of her and pressing tentative kisses to her stomach, only he travelled downward instead of up to her mouth.

"You don't have t—"

"I want to," he reassured, kissing her inner thighs. "Truth be told, Y/N, I've thought about doing this, too. Is that okay?"

"Yes," she responded clearly, extremely turned on by the needy tone in his voice.

Almost immediately after she answered, his tongue darted out to taste her, swiping gently over her clit and sending her into a state of speechlessness. She leaned up on her elbows to watch as Spencer took his time, exploring and savoring every inch of her. She knew now why he'd wanted to take his glasses off, but if anything the sight of them riding up his face as he ate her out made the whole thing even hotter.

"Fuck, Spence, that... that feels so fucking good," she breathed, trying to keep her eyes open to look at him but ultimately failing.

Her words emboldened him, and he slipped a finger slowly inside her, his tongue paying special attention to her clit. He worked them together in a slow, sensual rhythm that eventually drove her to the edge. And she told him so.

"You're gonna make me cum," she breathed, willing herself to open her eyes. She found him staring up at her as best as he could in his position, the hungry sparkle in his eye pushing her further. What finally pushed her over the edge was when he sucked gently on her clit and groaned against her as she called out his name. Everything blinded her for a moment as she rocked her hips against his face, needing to hang on to every last second of her orgasm.

When she finally came down, Spencer pulled away and adjusted his glasses, to which Y/N bit her lip and moaned once more. "You're sure you've only ever done this once?"

He laughed a little, sucking his fingers clean with a shrug before answering. "Yeah, but I'm a quick-study."

Y/N smiled and reached one of her arms out to him. "Come here, quick-study."

The two of them smiled as their lips found one another, her hands flying to his hair once again. His hands gripped her waist, and his dick pressed up against her lower stomach, making her groan against him.

Without another word, Y/N hooked her legs around his waist and shifted their weight, rolling them over so she was straddling him now. Spencer reached up to move her hair to one side of her face, and then soon after she sat up, placing her hands on his chest.

"I'll tell you something else I've thought about," she said lowly, scratching down his chest just lightly enough to give him goosebumps. She then used one of her hands to grip his dick and lifted her hips up, running the head of him through her wetness as she looked down at him. "I've thought about how good you would look while I ride you. More than once, actually."

She sank down onto him, just a little, and his face sure enough twitched in pleasure, making Y/N smile to herself. "What about you? You ever imagine me riding this pretty cock?"

"Fuck, Y/N, yes, I— Oh my god..."

She sat down completely, rocking her hips forward a little and pressing her hands harder into his chest. "Fuck, you feel so good..."

She set a slow pace, making sure to pay extra attention to Spencer's face as she worked him. Just like she'd done before, he seemed to have a hard time keeping his eyes open, but his hands gripped her hips so tightly she was sure they'd leave bruises. The thought of that spurred her on, and she picked up the pace, bouncing steadily on his cock.

"Ohhh, fuck," she groaned, her hands leaving his torso to grab her breasts. He opened his eyes and watched her, letting out a soft moan of his own. His hands slid up her sides and under hers, replacing them with his own firm grip. She leaned forward a little so he wouldn't have to reach up that far, placing both of her hands on either side of his waist.

"Tell me," she managed to say as she continued riding him. "You ever think about fucking me at work? In the round-table room or over my desk? I know I have..."

He continued to pinch and pull at her nipples while barely being able to keep his eyes open. "Y-yes... Fuck, Y/N, I think about you all the time..."

"Feeling's mutual. Sit up for me?"

Spencer opened his eyes and she helped him sit up. They adjusted for a second before she wrapped her arms around his neck and started moving again, rocking her hips into his and giving him a better angle to hit inside her deeper.

"Fuck, baby, you feel so good," she breathed against his lips before she kissed him, missing the feel of his lips on hers. Their bodies clung together perfectly, every movement feeling better than the last, until they were both obviously close to coming undone.

Sure enough, the moment she squeezed her legs together and clenched herself around him, he groaned into her mouth and bucked his hips forward. "Y/N... I..."

She pressed her forehead to his and tugged at his hair, quickening her pace just a little and feeling herself geting close as well. Any moment now and she would feel it.

"Me, too," she breathed, brushing her nose against his. Within a matter of seconds, they were both unraveling, sighing out each others' names and holding on to each other for dear life as they rode out their highs.

Eventually Y/N slowed her hips to a stop, and she slumped against him, pressing one final kiss to his lips before she got off his lap and pulled him down to lay beside her, immediately snuggling into his side and burying her face in the crook of his neck.

"So, was that better than you imagined?" she murmured against his neck, pressing kisses along collarbone.

Spencer laughed and pulled her even closer. "Even better. No dream could ever do you justice."

She smiled, feeling herself growing sleepy. "You sap... But, for the record, I could say the same thing about you."

"Really?" He seemed genuinely curious.

Y/N looked up at him and smiled, tracing patterns on his chest with her fingertips. "Really. I wasn't kidding, Spence, I think about you... probably more often than I should. You're distracting."

"I'm distracting?" he mused. "You're... you. Seriously, it's a surprise I haven't completely made a fool of myself around you since we met. Especially after we all found out about your other job."

"Right... That doesn't... weird you out, does it?"

"That you used to be a stripper?"

She nodded, truthfully a little worried. She wasn't sure why, but it had always been a problem in her previous relationships, and she'd gotten used to that.

"No, of course that doesn't weird me out. I mean, I was definitely more intimidated around you, and I figured you were completely out of my league... Truthfully, I think you still might be."

"Oh, don't sell yourself short, Doctor. You're perfect, and really, if anyone was out of anyone's league here, it would be me. I'd be lucky to have you in any capacity, you know that, right?"

He blushed, bringing his forehead to rest against hers again. "Well... In any case, I really do like you, and... If it's not too weird, maybe you'd want to go out sometime?"

Warmth bloomed in her chest as she reached out and grabbed his hand, lacing their fingers together. "Of course. I would love to."

***

"Make it stop," Y/N whined, covering her ears with the pillow.

Spencer stirred beside her, barely awake himself. The knocking at the door wasn't stopping, and in a huff of annoyance, Y/N decided she'd had enough.

"We're getting up!"

She only realized what she did after the door opened and Elle walked in, a shit-eating grin on her face. "Oh my God, you were in here last night! I came by your room and tried calling..."

Y/N and Spencer both froze, completely awake and now well aware of the fact that someone else knew about their... sleeping arrangement.

"Uh, yeah... Yeah, I was here. Sorry if I worried you," Y/N stammered, trying to keep her cool. "I-I promised Irene I'd stop by this morning for breakfast before we left, so I should probably do that. Do, um... Do you mind?"

Elle laughed, giving the two of her friends a once-over before nodding. "Sure thing, Little Star. Oh, and uh... Good for you, Reid, proud of you."

"Elle," Y/N groaned, clutching the covers tighter around her bare torso.

"Right. Don't be too late."

After she left, Y/N leaned over to Spencer and rubbed his arm. "I'm sorry. I probably should have—"

He stopped her by pressing his lips to hers in a soft kiss. When he pulled away, his hand brushed the hair from her face and he smiled. "It's fine. I don't care who knows. I mean, as long as you don't, Petite Etoile..."

He said it with a grin reminiscent of the one Elle had just adorned, and it made Y/N laugh. She kissed him again and ruffled his hair. "I'm gonna get you for that."

"What? It suits you."

"You are not calling me by my stripper name. It's bad enough Elle and Morgan are probably gonna call me that for the rest of my life, I don't need it from you, too." She smiled as she said it, hoping that he knew she was only joking.

Either way, Spencer looked at her adoringly and took her hand in his. "Well, then... how about I just call you mine?"

"I like the sound of that."

[soniaxdixon]

The New World; Series Pt 2

Okay so this is my first time writing a fic and obviously will be my first series but I’ve just rewatched TWD for like the 17th time and my obsession with Daryl has reached new levels. I hope that it isn’t too shit and that you guys actually read/like it. Thank you in advance for baring with my average writing but I mean, how else will I learn? Anyway, enjoy!

Sonia x

Set pre to early season 1, back story for when the world ended.

Part 2 of ??

Summary: Y/N Grimes is Rick’s younger hot headed sister. When Rick gets shot and falls into a coma, Y/N’s world ends. Y/N Finds herself at a quarry near Atlanta with her nephew carl, sister in law Lori and her best friend Glenn where she meets her new family including the equally hot headed redneck Daryl Dixon. Over time Y/N and Daryl begin to form a friendship, finally allowing one another to open up to someone and maybe finding someone they can actually love.

Warnings! Slowish burn but the feels are there from the start, swearing, A little angst. 

Words; 1774

This part focuses more on Season 1 Episode 3 ‘Tell it to the frogs’ We have a little reunion and start to explore Daryl and y/n’s relationship a bit more. - Sorry in advance if there are any errors, I didn’t really edit it properly

Like every morning, you were woken up by the sounds of your friends talking outside and the morning light forcing your eyes open. You rose, got dressed and stepped out of your tent your heart jumping when a big figure grabbed your shoulder suddenly, without warning.

“Jesus fucking christ, Daryl. A little heads up that you’re behind me next time? Shit.”

The ends of his lips curled into a small smile that made your stomach flip with butterflies. The power this man had over you already was immense. “M’ goin’ huntin’, shouldn’t be too long. Let Merle know if he gets back.” And with that, he was gone, not even giving you a chance to respond, his crossbow over his shoulder, hastily making his way into the woods. You couldn’t help but stare until his figure finally disappeared among the trees.

You looked over and saw Carl getting his haircut by Lori. He locked eyes with you and mumbled a plea for help. You shook your head and laughed at his suffering face. Catching on to the end of their conversation, you sat down next to Shane who was cleaning his gun.

“Frogs, plural”

“Why do we need ‘Frogs, plural?’” Carl questioned

You zoned out for a second, looking off in the direction Daryl had headed. Your mind suddenly racing. What happens if he comes across a walker? What happens if he comes across lots of walkers. Did he have a gun or just his crossbow? Why did he go alone?

“What do you think, Y/N?” Shane’s voice broke you from your silent panic.

You just stared at him for a second and he read your confusion, he knew you had a habit of zoning out. “Cajun style kermit legs, what do you think?”

“Oh, gross. No thanks.” Your face contorted with the thought of eating frog legs cooked by Shane. “You can keep your frog legs, I’d rather eat dirt.”

Your conversation was halted by the sudden sound of a car alarm.

“What the fuck?” You questioned, your eyes focusing on Shane.

“Talk to me, Dale?” Shane leapt from his seat and made his way over to the RV

You stood next to Shane, your arms crossed protectively across your chest.

The car sped up the hill suddenly screeching to a halt, Glenn climbing out of the drivers seat instantly being hounded by questions and yelling.

“My sister, is she okay?” Amy asked glenn over and over.

“Yes, she’s fine, everybody is. Merle not so much.”

Your stomach dropped quickly at the thought of Merle not being okay. What would you tell Daryl?

You turned and shuffled quickly towards your tent, climbing inside and finding your water bottle. You sat down for a few minutes, taking steady drinks. Poor Daryl you thought to yourself. You knew what it was like to lose a brother. You were drawn from your thoughts by the sound of a truck pulling up. Exiting your tent again you made your way over to Lori and Carl, placing your hands on the boys shoulders.

Everyone was reuniting and for a second, everyone was happy. You felt Carl’s shoulders begin to shake as he started sobbing. Lori knelt down and comforted him as he cried again for his dad.

“How’d y’all get out of there anyway?” Shane asked

“New guy, he got us out”

“Hey helicopter boy, come say hello. Guy’s a cop, just like you.”

You looked up at Morales’s words and felt your knees turn in. Tears filled your eyes as he stood there in front of you.

“Holy shit” was all that came out of your mouth before you saw carl running past you

“Dad!”

You’ve never seen the boy run so fast as Rick pulled him to the ground in a hug. Picking him up and walking to Lori. Your heart swelling with love as he let go of them and his eyes found you.

“Oh my God.” He uttered as he grabbed you and you finally allowed your knees to drop. He held you up as he hugged you, tighter than you have ever hugged before. You had him back. The only thing that could keep you calm. Your big brother was alive.

That night you sat around a fire and listened to Rick talk about his experience. Waking up in the hospital only to find the world had fallen apart. They spoke about Merle, how he was handcuffed to a roof in Atlanta, how T-Dogg had dropped the key, how they would have to tell Daryl.

You couldn’t think about it anymore, you pushed yourself off he ground and leaned down, placing a kiss on Carl’s forehead and hugging your brother one more time for the day.

You walked over to your tent and went to sleep for the night. As usual, the only thing on your mind was Daryl but tonight, it wasn’t the usual thoughts of what it would be like if you were together. Tonight they were thoughts flooded with worry.

————

You scrambled for your clothes in the morning, pulling on some blue jeans and a black tee, pushing your way out of your tent and over to your group. The sudden sound of screaming had you running before you could even register what it was, pulling your knife from its sheath you sprinted towards the sound.

“Carl?” You yelled, Lori’s voice followed yours with the same question as she and rick ran behind you.

Lori grabbed him, “Nothing bit you, nothing scratched you?”

You ran with rick and the others to the source of the screaming. A lone walker feasting on a big deer. A deer with bolts in its side. The men began to beat the walker, forcing it to the ground before Dale cut its head off.

Sudden rustling drew you from your thoughts as you watched the bush intently.

“Son of a bitch, that’s my deer” the southern drawl all too familiar. “Look at it all gnawed on by this, filthy, disease bearin’, motherless, poxy bastard.”

You followed him back into the camp as he yelled out for his brother, “Merle! Get your ugly ass out here, got us some squirrels”

“Daryl, slow up a bit, I need to talk to you” with the words that Shane said, your stomach began to churn.

“Bout what?”

“Bout Merle, there was a problem in Atlanta.”

“He dead?” Daryl asked, you could see the panic etching his face slowly.

“Not sure.” Shane answered

“He either is or he ain’t” obvious venom dripped from his words as he stared at Shane, waiting for his next answer.

Your eyes turned to Rick as he stepped in suddenly, “no easy way to say this so I’ll just say it.”

“Who the hell are you?”

“Rick Grimes”

“Rick Grimes” Daryl mocked “You got something you wanna tell me?”

“Your brother was a danger to us all so I handcuffed him on a roof, hooked to a piece of metal”

Before you knew it, things escalated. Daryl threw the squirrels and pulled out a knife.

Within seconds the knife was on the floor and Shane had daryl in a choke hold. You couldn’t control yourself and you threw yourself at Shane, hitting his back, “Let go of him” You were grabbing at his shirt trying to pull him off when Glenn grabbed your arms as you struggled against him.

“Fucking let him go Shane or I’ll cut your fucking hands off.” At this point Glenn was forcing his hand over your mouth to shut you up and you finally complied when Shane let Daryl out of the choke hold.

You stormed off to your tent so you wouldn’t react again. Thoughts raced through your head. Why the hell did you do that, what on earth possessed you? You and Daryl had hardly spoken and yet you were suddenly threatening one of your closest friends just so he would let him go. Get your head on straight Y/N, Daryl’s gonna think you’re a crazy bitch now.

About 30 minutes later, Rick headed over to your tent to check on you, you had calmed down at this point but you were still pissed at Shane.  “I’m taking, Daryl, Glenn and T-Dogg back into Atlanta to get Merle.”

“Okay, I’ll come.”

“No, I want you to stay here.”

You snapped “What the hell is with everyone thinking they have say in where I go.”

“I want you here in case something happens, You’ve taken care of Lori and Carl since the start and I need to know you will protect them while I’m gone.”

Your eyes softened as you shot him an apologetic look.  “Where’s Daryl?”

“He’s in his tent, packing his bag.”

You squeezed ricks shoulder and found yourself walking to the edge of your camp, to Daryl’s tent.

“Hey, are you okay? I’m sorry about your brother.”

“Why the hell would ya even care? Just leave me be” He was obviously hurt and his tone stung you.

“Geez okay, sorry for checking on you, prick.” You mumbled the last word walking away before his hand grabbed your shoulder, sending chills down your back as he quickly pulled away.

“M’ sorry. Thanks for checking.”

You just looked at him but your face eased out of the scowl you had before hand.

“Why’d ya jump on Shane like that before? I thought that asshole was your friend.”

“Yeah kinda. We grew up together, he Rick and I. He’s just kinda always been a part of my life ya know. When I thought I lost Rick, he became an even bigger part and I think seeing him dismiss your brother like he was nothing riled me up because I know what its like to lose a brother. I was just lucky enough that mine came back somehow.”

Daryl never broke eye contact with you, watching as slight tears stung your eyes when you thought about losing Rick. “You’re gonna find him. He’ll be fine and you’ll bring him back.” He just continued to look at you as his mind raced with thoughts. This was the longest that you two had spoken, you were actually telling him something about yourself and something in his chest felt like it was on fire. You reached out and he flinched slightly, you put your hand carefully on his shoulder. “He’ll be okay Daryl, You’ll be okay.” You gently squeezed as you turned around to head back towards your tent.

You heard him barely whisper “Thanks.”

“Come back in one piece please.” You whispered back, just loud enough that he could hear you and the fire in his chest grew.

[bonesofapoet]

Blood of the Holy

[matt murdock x you]

author’s note: hey hi hello, if some of you recognize this format + writing style but not the blog, i used to share my work on my main @ladyofstardvst​ and caved on making a writing blog. yall dont need to sift through my non-writing shit just to find my work. i’ve never written for this nerd before but here we are with a study of a sort! be kind! i take requests now! tw for blood, implied violence, swearing

word count: 1894

ao3: here

Most people couldn’t stand the neon in the dark.

It was garishly bright, it was harsh, it was annoying at best. The sign would blink and linger behind your eyelids, stain the shadows in the dark like sunspots, make an impression that washed out the relaxing calm, the blanket of the night.

It keeps most people awake, Matt Murdock explained on that very first night. It doesn’t bother me, obviously. Take the bed. It’s not as noticeable in the bedroom.

But it didn’t bother you either. The contrast caught your eye on the second night; the colors would paint the monochromatic neutral tones of the apartment, how they would mix and melt into the chipped brick walls, the trim, the beams of the ceiling. How if you were in the right place – the right cushion on the couch, far enough back into the kitchen – it looked like a painting come alive right before your eyes. Something that would go on to live in a local indie gallery, something inspired by vaporwave, or whatever they were calling neon nostalgia these days.

Still. Silent. Chiaroscuro. Art in the wild.

It was like clockwork, the blinking. The colors coming and going at the first peek of evening shadow, only to blink right off at the first knock of the sun’s rays on the horizon.

After the third, fourth, tenth, twentieth nights it had become a comfort of sorts, namely for the days Matt Murdock wasn’t there to press you into the wall and kiss you senseless, or weave each other stories under the moonlight with a nest of blankets and concrete beneath you. When he wasn’t there to ghost his fingertips over your skin as you drifted off to sleep, so painfully content that you always wondered if this beautiful man with a devastating secret would be the end of you.

You never knew, but he often asked himself the same thing.

Then there were days that damned neon was the only constant about Matt Murdock, the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. Daredevil.

Moments of lovesick peace would only last so long.

Your skin would crawl on the nights sleep wouldn’t come. Mug of tea, coffee, something stronger cradled in your hands while your mind wandered, your feet wandered, your eyes drifted around this space of his, this little hideaway of yours. You would always hear him before you saw him, adrenaline spiked and oh so weary. Some nights he was covered in so much blood you didn’t know where it ended and his own crimson suit began.

“You’re still awake,” he would say, scowl tugging his mouth down, always sounding surprised. As if it was unusual, for you to be restless on the nights he donned devil horns to go hunting.

And you’re still alive, would be your reply.

He would stay close until dawn. You would gravitate toward him just the same, moths to flame, flowers to the sun. Conversations were hazy and hushed in the early morning-late night blur. They walked that fine fragile line between this is not okay, Matt, and you know you can’t shove me away as easily as everyone else, you stubborn ass.

Unspoken vs spoken. Horror vs love.

Clockwork, nonetheless.

Until one day, the clock shattered.

Matt Murdock doesn’t come home.

Then it’s days. Weeks slipped into months. Months slipped into a blend of minutes, moments, denial casually catching hold within as you found yourself still in his apartment – your little hideaway - watching the steady blink blink blink of the neon sign through the dirty, frosted window panes of the kitchen. Then the living room, then the kitchen counter. Cold tea, day old bitter coffee, something stronger untouched and unloved in the mug that hung loosely in your hands.

Those feelings of heartache and unease and an angry I fucking told you so lingered at the back of your mind, the tip of your tongue. The last time you saw him had been reenacted so many times, it began to feel like a dream. A nightmare. The flesh made into ghosts. Phantom lips brushed yours in such a gentle, such an urgent way that your pulse began to spike at the memory. The loss. The longing.

You thought about how you had gotten here, of all places, here – this apartment, this man’s life, both of you entwined with secrets and lies that could end both of you forever-

Everything was safer in the dark. What Matt Murdock hadn’t known – well. That wasn’t how he had met his end, after all.

It was almost too much to think about, on some occasions.

Until one day, when the clock began to tick once more.

You heard him before you saw him, the familiar cadence of his footsteps descended from above. The quiet slide of the roof access door snicked open and closed in the unholy hours of the night, the unholy hours of the morning.

The silence was new, however, and your eyes drifted up to see a shadow at the top of the staircase, frozen and tense and so very familiar.

“You’re still awake,” he said, and the tears were suddenly there; the ones that could never come, the ones that never seemed to leave. They were present, and the noise that left your throat wasn’t coherent, wasn’t normal, but a strangled laugh escaped your lips anyway.

“You’re still alive,” you replied. If not for the routine, your answer wouldn’t have been so intelligible. “You’re alive.” came the raspy whisper.

His silhouette nodded, began to limp down the stairs into the apartment proper. Began to finish his long journey back to you, back to everything, really. The mug in your hands was no more – placed safely, if not hastily – on the table, and you met him halfway.

“Yeah,” he said, voice quiet and so very hesitant as he clawed off the scarf covering his eyes. “I’m alive.”

There’s the hint of a smile that catches in the neon blink, one that you dreamt of sometimes, on the long nights. Shared breaths, lovesick grins, stray tears being gently brushed away followed in a fog, in a rush, in slow motion that threatened to dismantle so many things about his time away.

And then -

“Where the fuck have you been?”

He’s holding your waist, fingertips splayed, grip firm if only to convince himself that finally – finally, he’s here, you’re here, you're together. Your own hands slid to his shoulders, but you stepped back to keep him a few inches away.

Your gaze was hot and strong and analytical – Matt could feel your eyes as they saw bruised skin, torn clothes, battered, bloody knuckles. He’s been in worse shape, both you and he knew that, but he also knew he was no drawing, no painting, nothing close to a work of art worthy of a museum either. There were bloody, violent masterpieces under guard at the Louvre more worthy than he.

Had he asked you, you would have disagreed.

He can’t see the sorrow drowning the color of your eyes or the way softness carved a home on your expression, carefully melting away the tension, the anger, the fear. He can’t see you, but he does and even after all this time he still knew how to read the air around your mood shifts and the lilt of your voice. Still knew that after all he’s put you through – he felt a weight lift off his shoulders, Atlas freed at last.

He may have lost touch with many things, many people, but not once had he ever lost you.

“I’m sorry,” he began, emotion becoming thicker in his voice with every breath, every word that tumbled past his lips. It had always unsettled him, how you could unearth what he tried to hide, tried to bury.

Moths to flame, flowers to the sun.

He condensed the happenings since the building collapse after his stint with the Defenders, his words spilling out quick and quiet, rushed and worried.

But if he hadn’t finished what he started, what was he doing here? What was he doing with you? Why now?

“Let me – let me get this straight. Were you going to let us think you died, until – when? You got your shit together? Killed Fisk?” his fingers tightened where they held you, unseeing eyes wandered anywhere and everywhere except right in front of him, right on you. You knew that look. Your voice softened. “Or were you just going to disappear? Like this meant nothing – like this means nothing? And as grateful as I am that you are – why are you here, Matt?”

He shook his head, ignored the cracks that broke open his heart like dropped glass. Your name spilled from his lips like a holy hymn that golden haloed angels could never hope to sing. No one could recreate the most divine sound in all of creation. Matt Murdock would always swear you were a goddess incarnate, no matter how sinfully blasphemous it was. “You mean everything.” he pulled you into him, moved so his face was close to yours.

“It’s not that simple,” he said after, and you deflated in an instant. The amount of times a variation of this conversation had been voiced between you – you would never know. It was like a renegade wildfire: possible to lessen, impossible to tame.

It was as quick as the changing of the seasons, how he took on the urgency you’ve only witnessed a handful of times - when he allowed you in the presence of Daredevil himself. You remembered what he asked of you lifetimes ago, between hushed words and bloody gauze, hands slick with red and a needle poised between your fingertips. How if danger ever came to your door, you would listen and you would trust, and you would let him do whatever it took to keep you safe.

To keep you both safe, you tried to correct. He would nod, and you would ignore that he never agreed to such a thing.

“We need to go,” was all he said, but you knew. You remembered.

The strongest jolt of fear slammed into you, bleeding a black and white, us and them mentality. It threatened to smother the blinking neon, the bright washes of blue and white felt muted, felt so very distant when you realized that someone was coming here, someone figured it out, figured it all out.

Oh.

That wasn’t the answer you hoped for.

Us vs them.

“So it’s finally happening.”

Matt’s hands fell away from you, one slid to twine your hands together and squeezed. He was solid, he was grounding. You looked into his eyes. “You know I won’t let anything happen to you,” he took his free hand, lifted it to brush your cheek with tattered knuckles, bruises blossomed like night blooming flowers. He left a trail of soft burning flames when he traced a path down to your jaw where he stopped and cupped your face ever so gently. “That’s the one promise I knew I’d never break.”

Fear melted away when you closed the distance to kiss him, felt that heavy soul twine with yours; all was suddenly right with the world for the first time in a long time, even if the anguish of this city was about to come crashing down on your shoulders all over again. It tore at your heart, this kiss, because it was so very reminiscent of the first time he ever kissed you. Bright eyes, flushed faces, the thrill of something new ignited all around you. The future painted with vivid neon instead of muted pastels. It felt bittersweet, and you knew down in the marrow of your bones that this could very well be the last thing you would ever share with Matt Murdock, the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. Daredevil.

“I know,” you whispered against his lips. “I trust you.”

Once those words were in the open, there was no going back.

Your secret could wait.

[jinniesmeow]

Felicity - Bang Chan

➵ Pairings : chan x reader

➵ Warnings : explicit language 

➵ Summary : ‘A feeling of intense joy’. That’s what sparks in you when you’re together. 

➵ Genre : best friends to lovers!au ; fluff (corniest stuff out there bruh)

➵ Word count : 3k

➵ Note : happy (belated) birthday bro @nanjaemin :’)) it’s not much at all, but I hope you’ll enjoy it anyway >:) chan still ur bias right? unless you swerved again... I'd still love you anyway, you rosbif :) (I even took the time to make the gif jUST for you bro look at dat poor quality)

“This town will never forget you, Elon Musk” 

You munch on a crisp, adding two more in your mouth before even swallowing it as you watch Homer and the rest of the Simpson family say goodbye to cartoon animated Elon Musk as he climbs back into his rocket, leaving the surface of Earth. Then, it’s the end of the episode and you happily hum along to the tune of Starman by David Bowie as they play it while the credits appear. 

Just as you’re swallowing, a sudden banging on your window makes you choke and you’re scared for your life for a second, thinking just maybe you’ll die because of a lousy prank someone pulled on you and you died asphyxiated by a crisp stuck in the middle of your throat while you were watching season twenty-six of The Simpsons in your — ironically — doughnut pyjamas. Maybe it’s better than to die after slipping in the shower though. 

Sitting up, you cough for a good ten seconds, eyes tearing up while the pain settles in your chest area. You finally manage to get that piece down the tunnel and take a breath in, eyes rolling back in relief. You’re saved from an untimely death, and you have the rest of your life to choke on more crisps while spending time in your pyjamas at eight at night, just like every normal person should. 

Exasperated, you still turn to your window, only to see Chan’s face stuck to it as he tries not to fall from your window border and break his legs two floors down on your dad’s freshly mowed lawn. With a sigh, you get up from your comfortable spot amongst five of your pillows you’ve set on the floor, facing the television. 

“You better have something urgent to tell or I'll push your ass until you land on it down there, accidents happen so fast” you tell him as you open your window but stand in front of him, not letting him set a foot inside. 

“Oh come on” he groans and tries to push past you, almost losing balance and you think he’s actually gonna fall off for a second and your heart skips a beat, imagining your best friend breaking his back in your garden because of you. “it’s date night” he says as he finally manages to get past you, dreading he will fall for real if he makes another unthought move. 

“It’s what night, now?” you whip around to face him as he stretches his sore legs in the middle of your room, not caring about the mud stains he’s leaving on your carpet in the slightest. 

“You know,” he grunts as he touches the tip of his feet with his hands, ass facing you (which only makes you roll your eyes), “it’s Friday night and we always hang out on Friday nights” he says as he finally starts untying his shoes, although keeping his weird position while doing the deed. 

You furrows your eyebrows and frown. “Okay, and? Since when are we calling that ‘date’ night?” 

Chan heaves a long sigh as he stands back up, putting his hands on his lower back to push his pelvis and get his bones to crack. “Since I decided it” he says and without waiting for you to comment on it, he takes his shoes off and throws himself ass first on the bunch of pillows you’ve put down for yourself earlier. “What are we watching tonight?” he casually asks as he finally spares you a glance. It’s actually more because he’s looking for the remote and of course, you have it in your hands. 

You roll your eyes and let out a curt sigh, biting the inside of your cheek. “Nothing, I have other things planned for tonight” you tell him. 

He scoffs and points at the TV and the bag of crisps laying next to him on the floor. “Like what? Watching the Simpsons all night long while eating junk food until you explode or something?” he jokes. 

He thinks he’s clever, but the corners of your lips don’t even move up a tiny bit. If anything, they turn further down, because as much as Chan said that mockingly, that’s exactly what you had planned on doing tonight. Alone. That means without him, but it’s a subtlety he seems not to understand. He’s so invasive, and all you want is to have one night to yourself while you can. Weekdays are too busy for you to do anything at night except going straight to bed, so weekends are your only occasion to turn into a giant junk food-eating slug, and for once in your life, you would actually appreciate it if Chan gave you some space. 

Space. 

A word Chan undoubtedly doesn’t know the definition to, as he just pats the spot he just made for you next to him. “Come on,” he pleads, “I’ll let you choose the movie” he says but you don’t move. 

You’re torn, because you definitely want to spend time with Chan and you can’t lie to yourself anymore, there’s definitely more to your feelings for him, not just plain friendship, but that’s exactly why you don’t want him here in your room tonight, because you can't think if he’s right next to you. And the whole ‘date night’ thing? Not helping. 

No matter how hard you want to kick him out, you can’t win a fight against the devil, and you know for sure Chan isn’t just going to accept and obediently leave you alone, because his mind is set on spending the night with you, so that’s just what he’ll get. 

You close your eyes and let out a defeated sigh. “Fine,” you comply and he instantly starts grinning, “but since you said I'm choosing, I'll pick a Ghibli movie” you add and his smile instantly disappears. 

“Please don’t make me watch that Mononoke thing again” he says with pleading eyes. You give him an evil smile, turning around to pick one of your DVDs. 

“Oh,” you say as you turn to face him again before putting it in the player, getting Chan to look at you with wide eyes, animated by a glint of curiosity paired with an ounce of fear of your next words. “you only get one bathroom break, and if you stay in there longer than five minutes I swear I will break that door down and drag your ass back in here myself, I even have my winter gloves prepared specifically for that” you smile innocently (it’s all fake though) and turn to push the DVD inside the player. 

Chan whines behind you. “Is that a way to treat the person you cherish most?” he’s being dramatic and you chuckle at his antics. 

“In your dreams, Bang” you reply, back still facing him. 

“Maybe..” he says lowly, and though you’re not supposed to hear it, you do. 

Totally (not) in control of your own mind and body though, you show no sign that you have and just turn around to sit next to Chan at a reasonable distance of about five centimetres, your mind set on keeping that between the two of you all night this time, for the sake of your own heart. You hit the ‘play’ button and watch as Porco Rosso starts playing on the screen. 

“Why are you doing this to me” he complains after barely five seconds when the movie hasn’t even started yet. You hit his chest with your left arm, using only the knuckles of your hand. 

“Will you shut up already? This one’s my favourite”

Your resolution has flown out the window not even twenty minutes into the movie after you’ve let Chan drag the pillow you’re sitting on towards him without protesting. 

You can try, but you know already your mind can’t win the fight against your heart, and you let your head fall on his shoulder while he snakes his arm around your form, pushing you further into him. You’re doing the best you can at keeping a steady breathing and a normal heart rate, but he’s not helping when he turns his head a little to have his lips brush against your forehead. 

To be honest, you’re losing it. But the storm is raging only on the inside, and all you can do to ease your pain is close your eyes and hope it’ll help make the feelings go away, somehow. 

Big mistake. It does make you focus on your breathing, helps you stabilise it and even slow it down. But it works so well that you end up falling asleep right there in his arms, lulled to sleep by the sounds of the movie playing in the background and the heat of Chan’s body pressed against yours. 

You only wake up four hours later and it’s past midnight. You want to kick your own ass when you realise what’s happened, but you can’t throw a fist at your own face right now. Chan has laid you down with him — on the floor, because your bed is a single one unfortunately — and you’re kind of stuck in his embrace, your back pressed against his chest. You can feel his breath on the back of your neck and you want to scream at how ticklish that makes you feel. 

You don’t move for an uncertain amount of time. It feels like hours, but barely four minutes have actually passed when you start chewing on your lip, knowing already what you’re about to do is probably — most likely — a mistake. 

Not listening to yourself, you turn around, rolling on your other side so you’re now facing him. You’ve been in similar — if not the exact same — positions with Chan countless times. And yet, this time it feels weird for you, like you shouldn’t be so close to him, like it’s wrong. 

Truth is, you think your feeling for him are wrong, because you feel like you’ve betrayed him. Friendship is definitely the purest and strongest bond two people can share, and you’ve established exactly that with him for years and years, and now you’re on the verge of blowing it because all of a sudden your dumb heart can’t behave? 

Even if you do date. You’re both young, and unless a crisp brings an end to it before you can do anything, you still have your whole lives to live. You can’t be sure you’ll stay with him for long, and you can’t stand the thought of not having him in your life. Besides, a change of relationship could most definitely impact your behaviour towards each other and make things weird between the two of you — like it sort of already has on your part. 

You’re having a life crisis, and Chan is just laying there, snoring into your face. The stress induced by all your self-questioning has made you wiggly, and your leg is actually bouncing lightly now, without you noticing. Though Chan is a quite heavy sleeper, that paired with your repetitive sighs and the fact you’ve been tossing around for fifteen minutes is enough to pull him out of his slumber, and just as you’re turning again to face away from him, he puts his hand on your arm to stop you from moving. 

“You know the bathroom’s next door if you need it, right” he grumbles in a hoarse voice. 

“I don’t need to-”

“Then, stop moving” he cuts you off. 

So you just lay there on your side, forced to face him. You sigh deeply. 

“Something wrong?” he asks, although it looks like he won’t be awake long enough to hear your answer. 

“No, n-not really” you stutter. Chan opens his eyes anyway. It takes him like what, three minutes? but he does. You can’t even believe he interrupted his sleep for you, and that only adds to your uncomfortable feeling. 

“Spill it” he just says, blinking rapidly through barely open eyes to try and stay awake. At least, long enough so you can get whatever’s bothering you out. 

You bite on your lip. “I think..” you stop yourself, changing your mind before you can say something too straightforward. You choose another way around things instead. “What if.. I had feelings... for someone and didn’t know how to tell them?” you say hesitantly. Chan’s eyes are closed again, breathing heavy, but he’s not asleep yet. 

“If it’s not me, I'll chop their legs off” he says bluntly, and in any other circumstances you would have exploded into fits of laughter at the contrast between his words and his pouty, bloated by sleep face. 

You chuckle nervously, trying to ignore the huge jump your heart just made in your chest. “Whaaa- that’s pretty gore, you got them feelings for my person or something?” you try to laugh it off and speak with a dumb accent, but regret your words as soon as they’re out of your mouth, because you can already feel the pain of what you think he’s about to say hit you, and every trace of what looks like a smile disappears from your face instantly. You try to make things right before it’s too late. “I mean-”

“Yes.” he answers, “been a while, thanks for noticing” 

Thankfully, you’re already on the floor. You can’t even register what the fuck is going on in your body and mind right now, but you’re pretty sure you’re just plain frozen. The machine just broke. 

Chan opens his eyes and looks into your wide ones. You feel the pain of heartbreak coming back quickly when you think he’s about to erupt into laughter and tell you it’s a joke. It’s like Chan is reading right through you though, because he doesn’t even let you say anything that would potentially put yourself down. 

“Do I have to kiss you to prove I'm telling the truth?” he says but it’s not even a question, because he’s gonna do it anyway, and somewhere deep inside you know he will too. 

And that’s just what he does. His eyes look down to your lips a second, and the next his lips are on yours, preventing your heart from jumping out of your chest that way. He’s so gentle, you just think you’re still dreaming and you actually never woke up in the first place. Is your whole life even real or is it just some twisted dream? Are you just going to wake up in a room with plain white walls and realise that was all your imagination? 

But you don’t. It’s been seconds, minutes, hours maybe, and you still haven’t woken up. It’s actually very real, and you finally allow yourself to kiss him back after getting over the shock of the events of the night. You’re lost in the feeling of his lips on yours, of his hand on the small of your back as he puts it there to push you even closer to him, if it’s possible. 

You pull back a few centimetres so you can renew your oxygen stock in anticipation to more of kissing his plump lips, if he allows it. Chan chuckles. 

“Nice” he just says. You’re not sure you’ve heard well. Did he just-?

You hit his chest. “Nice? Nice?? That’s it?” you gasp at his reaction. You’ve felt like exploding with butterflies right there and that’s all he has to say? 

“Hey!” he quickly defends himself, pushing your hand away so you can’t hit him anymore, “I’ve been waiting for this for years, I’m allowed to be at a loss for words too” 

You almost choke again, on your own spit (and maybe a bit of his too) this time. 

“Wha- years? Chan what the fu- why didn’t you say anything?” you attack him as your eyes are about to pop out of your face with how shocked you are. Years, he said. 

He just sighs. “Didn’t want to ruin our friendship, and I was kinda scared you would reject my ass” he explains. “does this ruin our friendship?” he asks hurriedly, a hint of worry obvious in his voice. 

Your entire self softens instantly. “No, of course not” you say. You’re sure of it. Your worries, just like his, had reasons to be, but after giving it about enough thinking, you’re about one hundred percent certain it’s just another way of seeing your relationship, like another step, something like that. Yes, a new side of the dice. 

“Oh thank god” Chan says and you giggle a little at his relieved face. He turns serious again quickly though. “Now whose legs do I have to chop off?” he half-jokes, although worry (and a dash of jealousy) are hidden carefully in the depths of his sleepy voice. 

You smile genuinely. You’re not cruel enough to make him believe it’s someone else or to tell him he can’t know, and to be true, you really just want to get it out of your chest and let him know how you feel too. 

“Yeah, I don’t think you’ll have to worry about chopping anyone’s limbs off” you whisper with an airy chuckle. 

Chan quirks an eyebrow. “Is that so?” he inquires.

Saying he’s relieved, saying he’s happy, saying anything about how he’s feeling is an understatement anyway. He can’t put words on it himself. All he knows is that he’s feeling amazing, like it’s too good to be true. He’s happiest when he’s with you, and he’s happier than he’s ever been right now. It’s a feeling he doesn’t want to go away.

“It is so” you confirm. 

It’s just spreading into his limbs, settling in his body everywhere. That’s the kind of way it feels when you’re together. 

He hopes it lasts. 

(quick a/n: it’s late right now that I'm (trying) to edit this before posting it and I'm leaving at 5:30am tomorrow to work so like if there were any typos and shit that doesn’t make sense I definitely did not see it. please excuse me for that :’))

[thebiasrekkers]

No Words - pt 2

Pairing: Taehyung x OC

Type: Series

Genre: Idol, Poly, Interracial, Tall Female, Smut, Angst, Fluff [if you squint]

Warning: Dirty. 

Words: 2190

A/N - This is where you start praying to Namjesus. It goes downhill..or is it uphill? From here. 

---

This was the most grueling assignment she could have received. She wouldn’t regret one single moment of it. How could she? A music lover who had drowned herself in every genre she could from a young age. It had been a dream to intern with the company responsible for BTS’ current tour.

It had been an even bigger shock when she was allowed to work alongside the production team. That one tour, turning into two tours that spanned the globe. She wound up living out of a suitcase, surviving on coffee, 4 hours of sleep a day, and more recipes to spread out cup ramen than she’d ever imagined.

She was still the odd girl on staff, unfortunately. She stuck out like a sore thumb where-ever they went. For one thing, she was taller than most of the females on the team. Let’s not get started on the males.

She tried to make herself as small as possible and failed miserably. The darker skin complexion, curly hair, and blue eyes gave her away. She was dependable, prompt, and thought outside the box. She learned to communicate thanks to the patient staff, lots of apps, and tenacity.

She didn’t like being obvious - but what could be done? It was always easy to find her. When she missed home, they’d find her in a kitchen in the wee hours of the morning reliving Southern and family comfort foods. Let’s just say there was an even trade of food culture.

But, like with any dream situation - there’s always something that threatens to ruin its perfection.

Sometimes it wasn’t a situation - sometimes it was a person. That person happened to be one Kim Taehyung.

30 days post kiss.

Everything was seemingly normal! They had avoided being caught by staff that night. There was a lot of alcohol consumed that night. These things happen, right? She kept telling herself that as the month zipped by. There were still moments that she could swear, his eyes lingered too long in her direction.

There was no awkward behavior between them. Everything was fine.

45 days post kiss.

Comeback season was in full swing. The schedules were tight and to the second. The boys were exhausted, and it showed. People kept energy bars, drinks, and towelettes on them at all times. Wipe sweat, coax a bite, a sip, offer the fan, and encouragement. It was hard to see them like this, practically wilting the moment they were out of the view of fans. The weather wasn’t making anything easy, either. It was sweltering and humid, and even she found herself with spare batteries to keep that small fan going. Her hair was pushed into a messy, frizzy, puff atop her head.

“Fuck this weather.” She growled softly. Tugging at the linen shirt, threatening to cling at the collarbone. She heard a beep through her headset, denoting the count time for end shots. The countdown echoed as they listened to the calls for a job well done. The Army wished them well with cries, cheers, and waves of the army-bombs.

80 days post kiss.

The boys kept smiles, waves, and proper idol etiquette on display until they disappeared beyond the staff doors. That door closed, and it was pandemonium. They were either bent over with hands-on knees, sliding down to the floor against walls, or leaning on a staff member. Everyone was sweating, there was no escape from it. 

The fact that she wound up under Taehyung’s arm with another member didn’t matter. They were panting, hot, and suffering signs of dehydration. She could see their pulses throbbing in their necks. 

“We need to cool them down.” The head PD came in with towels wrapped around ice-packs. There was a flurry of motion to get them out of layered outfits. Luckily, they had a desperately needed two-day break. 

It took an hour to get them hydrated, calm, and mobile. 

Everything went off without a hitch. Everything was seeming...normal.

Taehyung held a bottle of cold water against his neck. The world passed by in a hazy blur as they made their way back to the hotel. His head seemed to loll to the side. The city lights flickered in his gaze. The fabric of his sweats bunched in his hand, the only thing keeping him lucid. 

His nostrils flared as he tilted his head to the side, her scent still there. He could again feel her skin against his from under her shirt. The trail of sweat along the column of her neck, he remembered it visibly. It gave her a glow, a sheen - a brilliance, even. They had been too busy for him to make any moves. 

The shadows played along her skin, a peek of cleavage had him gulping the rest of his water down. He pulled the hoodie over his head and let the sound of the drive lull him to sleep. The fresh air in the van was enough to ease his frazzled nerves.

90 days post kiss. 

The night blurred into a stumbling trip to his room. His clothes were haphazardly tossed to the floor as he pushed into the bathroom. He wanted the shower to rid himself of the day. He tried to lay naked on his bed and sleep. Taehyung ran his fingers through waterlogged strands of hair. The shower was hot enough to ease his muscles. His hands braced against the wall as the shower pelted his skin. 

Massaged his skin? A groan slipped from his mouth at the sensation of fingers, kneading the knots from his shoulders. Fingers? Foreign hands. Small hands. “I don’t know who you are, bu-...” He whipped around, pressing against the shower wall. There wasn’t a chance to finish the sentence. Taehyung’s nostrils flared as his lips were captured. 

His fingers slid against smooth skin, the taste of peaches, and the soft mouth that tangled with his own. The kiss broke as he pulled back, confused. “N-noona?” Her lips formed a heart as she smiled. Her arms slid around his neck as he dared to let his hands settled into the wet nakedness of her body. 

Her head tilted up to him, “Kiss me again, Taehyung.” 

When did the shower get hot? There was so much steam. He could scarcely make out his own hand in front of his face. It was better than the first time. Nothing was holding them back. She didn’t try to stop as his tongue pressed against hers. The scrape of his nails against the curve of her ass as he pulled her closer. She was so soft, responsive, as he pushed his hips into her. 

Perfect. 

Everything about her, to him, was perfect. He loved the way her skin felt beneath his teeth. The length of him pushed between her legs as he shuddered at the clench of her thighs around him. His fingers dug into her skin as tongue and teeth nibbled, licked, and marked her. The heat didn’t bother him at all. She clung to him as he pushed between the squeeze of her thighs. He was going insane with want. His hands slid over her ass, and he pulled her against him. The squelching noises as he slipped between the folds of her sex, not entering - Not yet. All he had to do was angle himself, just a little. She bit into his collarbone, and he knew there’d be a mark.

Taehyung didn’t care, not one bit. He spun her into the corner pinning her hips. She bit her lip as their eyes locked. He tilted his hips down, just so, causing the throbbing head of his cock to slip between those folds. Finally. Finally.

His tongue swept his lips as he held her firm. His whole body trembled with the effort to maintain control as he slipped upward.

…and inward.

“V.” A breathy, far away sound.

His brow furrowed as she repeated it. “V.”

There was a sudden flash of cold air that nipped at his ankles. “V!”

Taehyung sat up too quickly in the back of the van. The staff member had tried calling to wake him up. But, the side door opening and the violent shaking did the trick.

“G’damnit?!” He growled, snatching his arm away from the staff member.

“Sorry, V. I called you for ten straight minutes, and you didn’t move.” The guy looked crestfallen at his reaction. Tae ran his hands through his hair, thankful for dark clothing.

I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped like that. I’m just…I’m exhausted.” The PD nodded softly, moving to the side to let the taller man out.

“Just get upstairs and get some rest. We’ll send the usual up.” The PD clapped Tae on the shoulder with a sad smile and made his way inside. Taehyung’s dark eyes narrowed as he was left, momentarily, alone.

His hands were jammed deep into the front pocket of his hoodie. He was doing everything he could to keep that massive erection hidden. Everything was painful - the air, breathing, the clothing against his skin; all of it pissed him off. He held his cock in one hand, under cover of his hoodie, pulling his bag behind him with the other. He just needed to make it to his room.

Tae got his room key from the front desk and made his way to the elevator. He rolled in, slamming the keycard against the reader. The elevator dinged as the doors began to close. He groaned as his head slammed into the back elevator wall. He could feel his pulse in his hands as he squeezed himself.

“Hold on a sec!” A voice, far away, called out as the elevator began to squeeze shut. Taeyung turned around to face the corner, trying to school his face into something less malicious. The door popped open for a hot second and was allowed to close. “Thanks for -” A female voice began cheerfully before pausing. “…V, is that you?”

Taehyung’s nostrils flared at the sound of that voice. His eyes popped open to catch her reflection, full of trepidation, in the silver of the elevator interior. The look he shifted over his shoulder caused her to press into the corner of the already small space. She suddenly noticed the length of his fingers as they wrapped around the bar lining the wall. It had been three months since that kiss. She had been doing everything in her power to avoid being alone with him.

The subtle way, of course. She dipped in, making sure to say her piece and evacuate the area. Business as usual; everything normal.

And yet, it wasn’t.

She found herself staring at the resource monitors too long. There were times she could feel him staring her down from afar. It made her skin itch. The sound of beeping was so loud in the silence of that elevator.

“Yah, Noona.” He turned to face her leaning back against the cold metal wall. “You’re really here, aren’t you?” She furrowed her brow as he looked at her from the fringe of his bangs. “This isn’t a dream, right?”

“V …are you alright? You don’t look so good.” They had all been suffering from this late-season heat. The night time cool-down had been a welcome relief. She ignored the alarms ringing in her head as she moved forward to place a hand on his forehead. “Jesus, you’re still burning up.”

Her hand was soft, cold, and real. Tae could smell the heat of her again. That scent of sweet something floral, and the slight musk of sweat. He turned his face into her palm with a heavy exhale against her wrist. She sucked in a breath pulling her hand away.

Well, she tried pulling her hand away from the iron grip of his fingers. “I have to make sure this is real. If this is another dream…” Tae offered a bitter laugh as he pulled her against him. “V you nee-” She spoke on a rushed breath before he interrupted her.

“That’s not my name.” He tugged her into the corner, spinning and pinning her hands above her head. They were eye to eye; nose to nose. It was just like in his dream. That one kiss gave him the blueprint to her proportions, and she was perfectly snug against that wall. Her eyes went wide at his obviously aroused state.

“V- T-Taehyung. You need to rest. You’re overheating.” A thick swallow as she corrected herself. The grip on her wrist eased at the use of his name. They were both breathing heavily as the elevator continued to beep along steady to the topmost floor.

“I know what I need.” He was leaning in again. There was nowhere to run this time. There was nothing but time and fifteen more floors before they reached the top. Taehyung tilted his head as he leaned in. “…I need this,” spoken against her lips as her chest bumped into his. Her lashes lowered as her gaze went to his mouth.

A moan broke the sudden silence, causing him to momentarily pause.

She didn’t mean to, it slipped out. It was the contact of their bodies as he crushed her against the wall. Tae smirked against her mouth, “And you need it too.”

14 floors left to the top…

[themaskedwriter]

Steve Rogers’s Day Off

Summary: For years Steve’s friends and coworkers have seen him as a stalwart stick in the mud. If only they could see him when he lets his hair down. But only one person seems to get that side of him- you.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 2500

Warnings: Swearing. Steve shirking his captainly duties?

Clues: This author started writing last June and has loved every second of it so far. She has a slight obsession with all things vintage, the latest being Queen and John Hughes movies, hence the inspiration for this fic (side note: Bucko and Steeb count as vintage, right?). She’s currently in the last semester of her undergraduate degree, which is related to the medical field.

******

Tony pushes his head into his folded arms, almost sending his plate of untouched eggs to the floor. “Can we all just take the day off? Mission debrief be damned.”

“Steve wouldn’t stand for that,” Clint chuckles as he takes a long drag of his coffee. “We all know he isn’t one to play hooky, especially when he’s the one that set the meeting”

Around the dining room table, there are nods and a few words of agreement. Bucky looks up from his phone and shakes his head.

“I don’t think you guys know Steve as well as you think you do,” he says with a small smile.

“I think you’ve lost touch, Tinman. We’ve all seen Steve in action this century,” Tony rolls his eyes. “Pardon my French, but he’s so tight that if you stuck a lump of coal up his ass, in two weeks you’d have a diamond.”

In the kitchen, a glass shatters and everyone whips around in their seats toward the noise. There’s a flash of golden blond hair and the sound of hasty footsteps.

“I think he heard you,” Bruce murmurs, not looking up from his bowl of cereal.

Bucky moves to stand as you walk into the room. “Hey, do you guys know what’s up with Steve? He ran the other way when he saw me coming down the hallway.”

“Tony’s just being an asshole, as per usual,” Clint says.

You look away from Bucky and notice the sheepish expression on Tony’s face. “Tones, what did you do?”

“Clint said it too!”

“I wasn’t the one talking about his tight ass!”

Bucky rolls his eyes and moves to smack both men on the back of their heads. “Maybe you should go check on him, sugar?”

“Yeah,” you look back down the hall to where Steve disappeared. “Yeah, I can go see if he’s okay.”

You knock on Steve’s bedroom door softly and wait for a few minutes before peeking your head around it. Steve is sprawled out on his back staring up at his ceiling fan. You walk over to him and sit down on his bed. He lets out a long exhale and tosses his arm over his eyes.

“What’s got you so down, Stevie?”

He pulls his arm away from his face and his bright blue eyes meet yours. “Am I boring?”

You raise your eyebrow at him and grin at the face he pulls. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“Because you think I’m a stick in the mud too?”

“Get up!” You reach down for his hands and pull the two of you up off the plush mattress. “We’re going out. I’m not letting you sit here and throw a pity party all day.”

“Leave me be,” Steve groans. “Hey! This isn’t a pity party and I wasn’t going to stay here all day.”

“You’re damned right it’s not. You do fun stuff all the time, you’ve just been busy lately.”

You grab Steve’s hand and he trails behind as you lead him through the halls. When you reach the garage, you look up to the wall of keys expectantly. “Pick one.”  

“I don’t think Tony would want us to.”

“Tony owes you one,” you gesture towards the wall. “Now pick a car, any car.”

“Where are we going?”

You grin at Steve as he randomly grabs a set of car keys. “To see something good.”

He passes you the keys and you click the lock to find the car. Your grin only grows when you see it’s one of Tony’s favorites. Steve slides into the passenger seat as the car roars to life.

Steve fiddles with the knobs of the stereo and looks over at you. “Okay, you’ve successfully kidnapped me, now where are we going?”

“What’s the first thing that pops into your head when I say ‘fun’?”

His brows pinch together. “I don’t know? Baseball, maybe?”

You pull out your phone and shoot off a quick text. “It’s a little early in the year for baseball, but I’ve got an idea. F.R.I.D.A.Y. can you start a route to Yankee Stadium? Also, send a message to the team that Steve came down with some nondescript illness.” You pull the car out of its spot and race off into the early morning sun.

Her Irish lilt fills the speakers. “Of course. Anything else, miss?”

“Yeah, start Steve’s favorite playlist. Thanks, F.R.I.”

She doesn’t answer but a different song pours through the speakers and Steve nods along to the beat. You weave through the mid-morning traffic and soon enough your stepping out into the parking lot outside the stadium.

“Are you going to tell me what we’re doing here? The season doesn’t even start for another month.”

“I know that you’re a Dodgers man, but I figured you wouldn’t want to spend all day on a plane. That, and I don’t personally know anyone on their coaching staff.”

Steve quirks his eyebrow at you. “That doesn’t tell me what we’re doing here.”

“We’re breathing a little life back into our routines,” you say with a laugh and tug on his arm. “C’mon, I promise it’ll be fun.”

A smile overtakes Steve’s face and he lets you guide him through the empty stadium to a row of offices. You knock on one of the doors and a man with kind eyes greets you.

“I’ve been expecting the two of you,” The man says with a broad smile. “Mr. Rogers it’s an honor.”

“Please, it’s Steve.”

“Steve this is Aaron, he’s the team’s general manager. I saved his ass during one of the many botched alien take-overs and he insisted that he owed me a favor.”

“I am surprised you are finally cashing it in, though. The field is all set up for the two of you.”

Aaron winks at the two of you and Steve raises his eyebrows at the man. “Set up for what, exactly?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” you singsong and push the confused blond back towards the field.

Steve smiles as you pull him onto the field and toss him a bat. “Ready to let out some aggression? I have a feeling this is going to be a baseball massacre.”

Steve scoffs and spins the bat in the air over his shoulder, catching it deftly. “This was my dream, you know? Buck and me went to any game we could. I uh- I thought that they’d let a little guy like me on a team if I was good enough. I practiced until my hands were raw.”

“You never told me that.” You look up from the pitching machine that you’re trying to turn on.

“Never told anybody. Not even my mom or Bucky,” he murmurs with a far-off look. “I’m sure they suspected.”

“I’m sure they did. You’re about as subtle as a bull in a china shop.” You tear your eyes away from him before he can notice you staring and finally turn the right knob. “Aha! You ready for the first pitch, Mr. America?”

His eyes narrow at you, but he can’t hold back the laugh that bubbles up out of his throat. “Do your worst.”

You raise your brow and feed the first ball into the machine. A deafening crack sounds throughout the stadium. You flip around just in time to see the ball fly through the air straight over the back wall.

“Holy shit,” you exclaim. “Steve! That was on the fastest setting!”

Steve’s smile is blinding as he takes off around the bases at breakneck speed. He’s not even panting when he slides into home plate. He stands and wipes the dirt off his pants as he jogs over to you.

A giggle bursts out of him as he pulls you in for a hug. “I’ve always wanted to do that.”

“If only the talent scouts could see you now,” you say breathlessly. “They’d be begging to get you on the roster.”

Steve’s cheeks flush as he lets go of you quickly. “That would sure be something. Is it your turn?”

“After that performance, I don’t know if I should.”

“C’mon its fun,” he smiles as you return to the plate and pick up the bat. “I’ll even turn the speed down.”

You hold the bat with one hand and raise your middle finger to him. Steve drops the ball into the machine and you manage to hit the ball over his head. You drop the bat and sprint towards first base. Steve scoops up the ball and darts towards you, just before you can hit the base Steve is there. You can’t stop your feet in time and you crash into Steve’s broad frame, his hands circle your waist to keep you steady.

“You okay there, doll?”

You grin and look up at him. “I mean I’d be better if I were safe, but I’m no match for the great Steve Rogers.”

He rolls his eyes and holds your arms to make sure that you’re okay to stand. “It’s the serum. I’d be almost as hopeless as you without it.”

You gasp and clutch your chest. “That’s a low blow, Stevie.”

“I couldn’t help-” his stomach growling cuts off his sentence and his cheeks flush a brilliant red again. “it.”  

“It appears that even star athletes get hungry,” you say with a grin. “You wanna break for some lunch?”

“As much as I love ballpark hot dogs, I don’t think eating last seasons are such a good idea.”

“As good as that sounds, that’s not what I had in mind,” you scrunch your nose up and he laughs. “What’re you in the mood for, dummy?”

“You’re the mastermind here.”

“That’s not how it works! We’re having your best day ever. So, I ask again, what’s for lunch?”

Steve laughs and his eyes light up. “You know a hot dog actually sounds really good.”

“So, you do want a moldy-year-old hot dog? You’re a sick man, Rogers.”

“I was thinking Central Park? We could do some people watching. That and the drive shouldn’t be too bad.”

“If that’s what you want for your special day then it’s what we’re doing.”

You reach for Steve’s hand but stop midair, quickly rethinking your action. You feel your cheeks heat up and you turn to walk back to the car. Steve watches your retreating form before his brain catches up and he darts after you. You toss him the keys with a tight grin.

“Think you can handle it?”

“Doll, I was driving long before you were alive,” Steve chuckles. “Tanks and planes mostly, but they can’t be that different.”

“Hardy-har, grandpa has a sense of humor.”

Steve turns to you with a heart-stopping grin and stomps on the gas, pealing out of the parking lot. He expertly weaves through the mid-day traffic and pulls the sports car into a spot just outside the park. You make your way to a hot dog vendor and eat your lunch as you walk around, enjoying the warm weather.

The soft sounds of a few street performers draws you and Steve in, along with a small crowd. An older couple takes each other’s hands of the and the two start to sway to the music. Others in the crowd follow their lead and Steve offers his hand to you.

“Dance with me?”

You smile and take his hands and he spins you around. “It’s only right.”

“Danke schoen, darling, danke schoen,” the singer croons. “Save those lies, darling don’t explain.”

“I recall Central Park in fall,” Steve sings quietly. “How you tore your dress, what a mess. My heart says danke schoen.”

You laugh softly and lay your head on Steve’s chest. “Too bad it’s spring.”

“Just pretend, doll.”

You close your eyes and he continues to murmur the words, his chest rumbling as the two of you dance. All too soon the song is over and the couples around you begin to separate. You squeeze Steve’s warm hands and he smiles softly before stepping away from you.

“What’s next?”

“I was thinking something with art? I think they’ve got a new exhibit at the Met,” you say as you start to pull out your phone to check their website.

Steve stops you and nods towards another street artist, this one sketching people for money. “How much do you think he’d charge for a sketch pad?”

“There’s only one way to find out,” you say with a grin as Steve approaches the man.

It turns out the going rate for a sketch pad in Central Park is twenty-five dollars and a selfie with Captain America. You and Steve find a nice spot where he can draw, while still having people around for him to sketch. You sit next to him, content to watch his intense concentration as he shades. The park begins to grow quiet as the afternoon wears on.

“What are you sketching now that there’s nobody around?”

Steve bites his lip and his eyes dart down to the pad in his lap. “One of my favorite subjects.”

“Oh, Tony then?”

He laughs but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You know I prefer to not draw from memory. Besides Tony’s a terrible muse, he’s always moving too much.”

“What is it, then? The city? New York’s got to be the perfect muse.”

He shakes his head. “How could I waste time drawing buildings when I’ve got something so beautiful sitting right in front of me?” His hands shake lightly as he holds out the pad of paper to you.

You look down at the sketch pad and notice a familiar form- yours. He’s somehow captured the slopes and angles of your body perfectly as if he had drawn them hundreds of times. You can’t take your eyes of the radiant woman smiling up at you. Steve’s somehow put a sense of untouchable longing into the portrait.

“I’m really sorry if you don’t like it,” Steve whispers. “It’s creepy. God, I just can’t help but draw you-”

You cut him off by pressing your lips to his and the needy noise he makes in the back of his throat sends you into overdrive. His hands find your waist and he drags you impossibly closer to him. The sketchpad falls forgotten at your feet as you tangle your fingers into his short strands. You both pull back panting, desperate to catch your breath.

“I take it you like the picture?”

You bury your face in his chest. “I love it.”

“Doll?”

“Yeah, Steve?”

“Can I kiss you again?”

******

Tony shrieks as he looks down at his phone and everyone comes running into the common room. He shoves a picture of you and Steve kissing into Natasha’s face. “Since when are they together?”

“According to this very real looking TMZ article, they’re secretly married,” Sam says as he reads over Natasha’s shoulder.

“How rude, we didn’t even get an invite,” Natasha smirks. “And to think Steve told us he was sick.”

Bucky grins from the couch. “Oh, that’s not Steve, that’s Abe Froman. And his lucky lady.”

“The sausage king of Chicago,” Tony sputters.  

Bucky laughs and nods as the rest of the group look at Tony as if he’s grown a second head. “It’s the name he uses when they’re playing hooky. Looks like he finally got the balls to do something about his feelings, though.”

“What the actual fuck.”

“Language,” Bucky mock-gasps.

Tony’s eyes widen. “Rogers has got a lot of explaining to do.”

[darknytemare]

No Words -pt 2

BTS - V Imagine - Tall Girl - Interracial - Dirty-ish

This was the most grueling assignment she could have received. She wouldn’t regret one single moment of it. How could she? A music lover who had drowned herself in every genre she could from a young age. It had been a dream to intern with the company responsible for BTS’ current tour. 

It had been an even bigger shock when she was allowed to work alongside the production team. That one tour, turning into two tours that spanned the globe. She wound up living out of a suitcase, surviving on coffee, 4 hours of sleep a day, and more recipes to spread out cup ramen than she’d ever imagined.

She was still the odd girl on staff, unfortunately. She stuck out like a sore thumb where-ever they went. For one thing, she was taller than most of the females on the team. Let’s not get started on the males.

She tried to make herself as small as possible and failed miserably. The darker skin complexion, curly hair, and blue eyes gave her away. She was dependable, prompt, and thought outside the box. She learned to communicate thanks to the patient staff, lots of apps, and tenacity.

She didn’t like being obvious - but what could be done? It was always easy to find her. When she missed home, they’d find her in a kitchen in the wee hours of the morning reliving Southern and family comfort foods. Let’s just say there was an even trade of food culture.

But, like with any dream situation - there’s always something that threatens to ruin its perfection.

Sometimes it wasn’t a situation - sometimes it was a person. That person happened to be one Kim Taehyung.

30 days post kiss.

Everything was seemingly normal! They had avoided being caught by staff that night. There was a lot of alcohol consumed that night. These things happen, right? She kept telling herself that as the month zipped by. There were still moments that she could swear, his eyes lingered too long in her direction.

There was no awkward behavior between them. Everything was fine.

45 days post kiss.

Comeback season was in full swing. The schedules were tight and to the second. The boys were exhausted, and it showed. People kept energy bars, drinks, and towelettes on them at all times. Wipe sweat, coax a bite, a sip, offer the fan, and encouragement. It was hard to see them like this, practically wilting the moment they were out of the view of fans. The weather wasn’t making anything easy, either. It was sweltering and humid, and even she found herself with spare batteries to keep that small fan going. Her hair was pushed into a messy, frizzy, puff atop her head.

“Fuck this weather.” She growled softly. Tugging at the linen shirt threatening to cling at the collarbone. She heard a beep through her headset denoting the count time for end shots. The countdown echoed as they listened to the calls for a job well done. The Army wished them well with cries, cheers, and waves of the army-bombs.

80 days post kiss.

The boys kept smiles, waves, and proper idol etiquette on display until they disappeared beyond the staff doors. That door closed, and it was pandemonium. They were either bent over with hands-on knees, sliding down to the floor against walls, or leaning on a staff member. Everyone was sweating, there was no escape from it.

The fact that she wound up under Taehyung’s arm with another member didn’t matter. They were panting, hot, and suffering signs of dehydration. She could see their pulses throbbing in their necks.

“We need to cool them down.” The head PD came in with towels wrapped around ice-packs. There was a flurry of motion to get them out of layered outfits. Luckily, they had a desperately needed two-day break.

It took an hour to get them hydrated, calm, and mobile.

Everything went off without a hitch. Everything was seeming…normal.

Taehyung held a bottle of cold water against his neck. The world passed by in a hazy blur as they made their way back to the hotel. His head seemed to loll to the side. The city lights flickered in his gaze. The fabric of his sweats bunched in his hand the only thing keeping him lucid.

His nostrils flared as he tilted his head to the side, her scent still there. He could again feel her skin against his from under her shirt. The trail of sweat along the column of her neck, he remembered it visibly. It gave her a glow, a sheen - a brilliance, even. They had been too busy for him to make any moves.

The shadows played along her skin, a peek of cleavage had him gulping the rest of his water down. He pulled the hoodie over his head and let the sound of the drive lull him to sleep. The fresh air in the van was enough to ease his frazzled nerves.

90 days post kiss.

The night blurred into a stumbling trip to his room. His clothes were haphazardly tossed to the floor as he pushed into the bathroom. He wanted the shower to rid himself of the day. He tried to lay naked on his bed and sleep. Taehyung ran his fingers through waterlogged strands of hair. The shower was hot enough to ease his muscles. His hands braced against the wall as the shower spray pelted his skin.

Massaged his skin? A groan slipped from his mouth at the sensation of fingers, kneading the knots from his shoulders. Fingers? Foreign hands. Small hands. “I don’t know who you are bu-…” He whipped around, pressing against the shower wall. There wasn’t a chance to finish the sentence. Taehyung’s nostrils flared as his lips were captured.

His fingers slid against smooth skin, the taste of peaches, and the soft mouth that tangled with his own. The kiss broke as he pulled back, confused. “N-noona?” Her lips formed a heart as she smiled. Her arms slid around his neck as he dared to let his hands settled into the wet nakedness of her body.

Her head tilted up to him, “Kiss me again, Taehyung.” When did the shower get hot? There was so much steam. He could scarcely make out his own hand in front of his face. It was better than the first time. Nothing was holding them back. She didn’t try to stop as his tongue pressed against hers. The scrape of his nails against the curve of her ass as he pulled her closer. She was so soft, responsive, as he pushed his hips into her.

Perfect.

Everything about her, to him, was perfect. He loved the way her skin felt beneath his teeth. The length of him pushed between her legs as he shuddered at the clench of her thighs around him. His fingers dug into her skin as tongue and teeth nibbled, licked, and marked her. The heat didn’t bother him at all. She clung to him as he pushed between the squeeze of her thighs. He was going insane with want. His hands slid over her ass, and he pulled her against him. The squelching noises as he slipped between the folds of her sex, not entering - Not yet. All he had to do was angle himself, just a little. She bit into his collarbone, and he knew there’d be a mark.

Taehyung didn’t care, not one bit. He spun her into the corner pinning her hips. She bit her lip as their eyes locked. He tilted his hips down, just so, causing the throbbing head of his cock to slip between those folds. Finally. Finally.

His tongue swept his lips as he held her firm. His whole body trembled with the effort to maintain control as he slipped upward.

…and inward.

“V.” A breathy, far away sound.

His brow furrowed as she repeated it. “V.”

There was a sudden flash of cold air that nipped at his ankles. “V!”

Taehyung sat up too quickly in the back of the van. The staff member had tried calling to wake him up. But, the side door opening and the violent shaking did the trick.

“G’damnit?!” He growled, snatching his arm away from the staff member.

“Sorry, V. I called you for ten straight minutes, and you didn’t move.” The guy looked crestfallen at his reaction. Tae ran his hands through his hair, thankful for dark clothing.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped like that. I’m just…I’m exhausted.” The PD nodded softly moving to the side to let the taller man out.

“Just get upstairs and get some rest. We’ll send the usual up.” The PD clapped Tae on the shoulder with a sad smile and made his way inside. Taehyung’s dark eyes narrowed as he was left, momentarily, alone.

His hands were jammed deep into the front pocket of his hoodie. He was doing everything he could to keep that massive erection hidden. Everything was painful - the air, breathing, the clothing against his skin; all of it pissed him off. He held his cock in one hand, under cover of his hoodie, pulling his bag behind him with the other. He just needed to make it to his room.

Tae got his room key from the front desk and made his way to the elevator. He rolled in, slamming the keycard against the reader. The elevator dinged as the doors began to close. He groaned as his head slammed into the back elevator wall. He could feel his pulse in his hands as he squeezed himself.

“Hold on a sec!” A voice, far away, called out as the elevator began to squeeze shut. Taeyung turned around to face the corner, trying to school his face into something less malicious. The door popped open for a hot second and was allowed to close. “Thanks for -” A female voice began cheerfully before pausing. “…V, is that you?”

Taehyung’s nostrils flared at the sound of that voice. His eyes popped open to catch her reflection, full of trepidation, in the silver of the elevator interior. The look he shifted over his shoulder caused her to press into the corner of the already small space. She suddenly noticed the length of his fingers as they wrapped around the bar lining the wall. It had been three months since that kiss. She had been doing everything in her power to avoid being alone with him.

The subtle way, of course. She dipped in making sure to say her piece and evacuate the area. Business as usual; everything normal.

And yet, it wasn’t.

She found herself staring at the resource monitors too long. There were times she could feel him staring her down from afar. It made her skin itch. The sound of beeping was so loud in the silence of that elevator.

“Yah, Noona.” He turned to face her leaning back against the cold metal wall. “You’re really here, aren’t you?” She furrowed her brow as he looked at her from the fringe of his bangs. “This isn’t a dream, right?” “V …are you alright? You don’t look so good.” They had all been suffering from this late-season heat. The night time cool-down had been a welcome relief. She ignored the alarms ringing in her head as she moved forward to place a hand on his forehead. “Jesus, you’re still burning up.”

Her hand was soft, cold, and real. Tae could smell the heat of her again. That scent of sweet something floral, and the slight musk of sweat. He turned his face into her palm with a heavy exhale against her wrist. She sucked in a breath pulling her hand away.

Well, she tried pulling her hand away from the iron grip of his fingers. “I have to make sure this is real. If this is another dream…” Tae offered a bitter laugh as he pulled her against him. “V you nee-” She spoke on a rushed breath before he interrupted her.

“That’s not my name.” He tugged her into the corner, spinning and pinning her hands above her head. They were eye to eye; nose to nose. It was just like in his dream. That one kiss gave him the blueprint to her proportions, and she was perfectly snug against that wall. Her eyes went wide at his obviously aroused state.

“V- T-Taehyung. You need to rest. You’re overheating.” A thick swallow as she corrected herself. The grip on her wrist eased at the use of his name. They were both breathing heavily as the elevator continued to beep along steady to the topmost floor.

“I know what I need.” He was leaning in again. There was nowhere to run this time. There was nothing but time and fifteen more floors before they reached the top. Taehyung tilted his head as he leaned in. “…I need this,” spoken against her lips as her chest bumped into his. Her lashes lowered as her gaze went to his mouth.

A moan broke the sudden silence, causing him to momentarily pause.

She didn’t mean to, it slipped out. It was the contact of their bodies as he crushed her against the wall. Tae smirked against her mouth, “And you need it too.”

14 floors left to the top…

[24stiles920]

Silverfinger

Teen Wolf Rewrite

Pairing: Stiles x Reader

Warnings: Ages 16+, swearing,

Words: 3288

A/N: There wasn’t much that I could do with this chapter, but I still hope you guys like it. Next episode we’re halfway through season 3B. 😊

Season 3B Masterlist

“His eyes were glowing.” Scott said, staring at Mr. Argent as we all sat around in his office. Allison was tending to Mr. Argent’s wounds while he was telling us about his previous encounter with the masked figures.

“There was something almost ritualistic about it.” Mr. Argent told us with a haunted look in his eyes. “Like it was looking right into his soul.”

“That’s the same thing it did to me.” Isaac spoke up, raising his eyebrows.

“That’s what it did to everyone.” Allison added as she dabbed rubbing alcohol into Mr. Argent’s face wound.

“Not everyone.” Scott shook his head. “They only came after the werewolves.”

“And me and Lydia.” I sighed, leaning back in my seat.

Mr. Argent nodded. “Anyone with a connection to the supernatural.”

“Then who was the guy they went after in Japan?” Isaac asked.

“A kumicho.” Mr. Argent said, glancing over at Isaac. “A yakuza boss. It was my first gun deal. I was only eighteen and it was supposed to be a simple exchange. Except Gerard left out the minor detail of the buyers being yakuza. He wanted to see if I could adapt in the moment, testing my ability to improvise.”

“Or your ability to survive.” Allison cut in scathingly.

Mr. Argent ignored her, continuing with his story. “The moment the sun went down it was like they just materialized out of the shadows. They had swords, not curved like katanas, but straight, black steel. Like ninjatos.”

“What did they want?” I wondered, leaning forward, interested in his story.

“To get to the kumicho.” Mr. Argent answered. He hesitated for a second before continuing, “They cut down every living thing in their way.”

“Did they mark him like they did us?” Isaac questioned, touching the back of his ear, where a backwards five was marked into his skin. I had the same one.

“Not exactly.” Mr. Argent scoffed. He went on to tell us that the figures killed the kumicho, stabbing him with their swords.

“What was he?” Scott asked.

Mr. Argent turned to Scott and shook his head. “I don’t know. But there might be someone who does. There were a few others who survived that night. One of them was a man named Katashi. They called him Silverfinger because of an unusual prosthetic.” He looked around at all of us. “And it looked like he was getting ready to take them all on himself. I’ve known for a while Katashi was in the country. I spent yesterday tracking him down.”

Isaac pointed at Mr. Argent’s wounds. “Did look like he wanted to be found.”

“Not particularly, no.” Mr. Argent agreed.

“Do you think he knows what they are?” Scott asked, narrowing his eyes. “Or what they want?”

“Maybe.”

“What if he doesn’t want to talk?” Allison wondered, looking at her father with a grave expression.

As Mr. Argent stood up and walked over to a wooden box on his desk, I spoke up, “What if he doesn’t even remember you?”

Mr. Argent opened the wooden box and took out a piece of gray cloth, uncovering a broken, silver mask. It was one of the masks that the figures had on.

“He’ll remember this.” Mr. Argent said, pointing to the pieces of the mask. “I know I didn’t kill it. I’m not sure you can.” He looked at Allison as Scott picked up one of the pieces out of the box. “But I slowed it down long enough for us to get out of there.”

“What was behind the mask?” Scott muttered, looking down at the piece that he held in his hands.

“Darkness.” Mr. Argent answered. “Absolute darkness.”

-

I ran up to Scott’s bike as he parked it. My stomach clenched with anxiety and I had a stress headache forming. Ethan and Aiden parked their bikes on either side of him.

“Have you seen Stiles?” I asked as he took his helmet off.

Scott shook his head. “No, I haven’t.” He turned to Ethan and Aiden. “Are you guys going to be doing this all day?”

“All day.” Ethan grinned.

“All night.” Aiden added from Scott’s other side.

Scott bit his lip. “Is this about being in my pack?”

“This about you being the target of demonic ninjas.” Aiden replied.

“You mean the demonic ninjas that pulled swords out of their chests and completely kicked our asses?” Ethan asked theoretically.

“Yeah.” Aiden nodded before looking at Scott pointedly. “Those demonic ninjas.”

“I don’t need anyone to protect me.” Scott objected.

“They were looking right at you when the sun came up.” Ethan reminded Scott.

“And they also disappeared.” Scott retorted. “Argent thinks that they could just come out at night.”

“Since this is our first experience with demonic ninjas, we’re thinking we should play if safe.” Ethan said with a grim expression.

“All day.” Aiden added.

Scott nodded and sighed, “And all night.”

“Not that I’m not grateful that Scott’s being protected all day and all night, but I’m freaking out here.” I interrupted, stomping my foot like a spoiled brat.

“Stiles is fine, Y/N.” Scott assured me as he got off his bike. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “He texted me to get you and meet up with him.”

“Oh.” I deflated, relieved.

Scott smiled, amused. “Let’s go. I have to get something from my locker.”

Scott and I walked into the school and walked down the hallway to his locker. Ethan and Aiden followed behind us closely, looking over their shoulders, paranoid.

“Okay,” Scott said to the twins as he opened his locker. “One thing first. Y/N and I need to talk to Stiles and let him know everything that happened last night. Without you.”

“No.” Ethan disagreed.

“Yes.” Scott sighed. “And I don’t want you listening in. No wolf hearing.”

“How would you even know?” Ethan asked.

Scott smirked. “I’m a true alpha. You have no idea what I can do.” He shut his locker. “Come on, Y/N.”

Together, Scott and I walked down the hallway to Stiles’ locker, where he was waiting for us. He looked terrible, with bags under his eyes, his hair messy, and his skin was pale. He was jiggling his leg anxiously and perked up when he noticed us.

“Hey,” I greeted him. “Where have you been?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Stiles waved me off. “I have to tell you guys something.”

“Okay,” Scott said cautiously. “What’s up?”

Stiles turned around and started walking down the hallway. “You know how you were drunk last night?” He asked me. Without my response, he went on. “We were making out and stuff and I pulled out my bottle opener—” He opened the door to the chemistry room, the same one that Barrow had hid in. “You started talking about phosphors and the key having chemicals on it, right?”

“Yeah, but, Stiles—”

“And so that made me think of the chemistry closet and the fact that someone had to let Barrow in…” Stiles continued as he threw his backpack to the floor and walked toward the blackboard. He paused, noticing that it was empty. “It’s gone.”

Scott and I exchanged worried looks as Stiles backed up and strode over to the chemical closet.

“Okay, it doesn’t matter though.” He muttered. “It doesn’t matter. I’ve still got the key.” He took out his key ring and started going through the keys, looking for the right one. From the bewildered look on his face, I realized that it wasn’t there. “What the fuck? I had it here. I had it here this morning, I swear to God, I had it this morning.”

His expression was so panicked it broke my heart, but I didn’t know what to do.

“The key you were talking about last night?” Scott asked gently.

“Yeah, I showed it to you, right?” Stiles asked, looking up at Scott. “Didn’t I show it to you?”

“No,” Scott shook his head. “You just told me about it. I never actually saw it.”

Stiles started to breathe heavily. I recognized that he was on the verge of panic, so I spoke up, “I saw it, Stiles.” I assured him in a soft voice, reaching out to touch his arm. “I saw it, remember?”

Stiles nodded, letting out a deep breath before looking back over to the blackboard. “I was here a couple of hours ago.” He informed us. “And the message left to Barrow spelling Kira’s name was right there on the board in my handwriting and I had the key to the chemistry closet.”

The whole time he was talking, he walked slowly over to the board. Scott and I followed him, his frantic tone startling us.

“So you,” Scott pointed at Stiles. “Unlocked the chemistry closet so Barrow could hide in it from the cops and then you wrote him a message to kill Kira?” He tone held a mixture of disbelief and confusion.

“I know how it sounds,” Stiles murmured, stuffing his keys back into his pocket before pulling out a piece of paper and unfolding it. “But look at this. This is the news report that came out about Barrow when they caught him, okay? About the shrapnel bomb that he used. See this?” Stiles pointed at the article. “See what he did? He put nuts, bolts, and screws and then he hid the bomb and the detonator in a box that he wrapped as a birthday present. What does that sound like to you?”

Scott looked at Stiles in realization. “Coach. The joke we played on Coach.”

“That was my idea.” Stiles said reverently, his eyes wide with desperation and panic. “You remember? That was my idea. That’s no coincidence. It can’t be.”

“I-I—“ Scott stammered, shaking his head. “I don’t want to sound like I’m trying to tell you that you’re wrong, but I don’t think you’re trying to kill people either.”

Stiles looked back at the blackboard and scrunched up the article. “It was here. It was all here.” He said in a broken voice.

I looked down and noticed his hands were shaking. Reaching over, I grabbed one of his hands and held them in my own. I felt my heart break as I stared at him, looking so tired and anxious.

“Dude, are you feeling okay?” Scott asked, looking worriedly at Stiles. “You’re looking really tired.”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Stiles whispered, looking at Scott briefly before turning back to the blackboard. “I just haven’t been sleeping, really.”

“Why don’t we go home?” I suggested, squeezing Stiles’ large hand. “We can take a sick day or something.”

Stiles sighed and nodded. Scott patted Stiles on his shoulder and left the room, leaving Stiles and I alone. Stiles was still staring at the board when I tugged on him gently.

“Come on, babe.” I breathed. “You need some rest.”

“Yeah.” Stiles nodded, turning away from the board. As we went to start walking, Stiles stumbled, almost falling if I hadn’t been holding onto him.

“Woah!” I exclaimed, gripping his arm. “Maybe we should go to the hospital.”

“Okay.” Stiles agreed, startling me with how easily he gave in. “Let’s go.”

-

Stiles and I walked up to the front desk of the hospital, only to see Melissa behind the computer.

“Hey, guys.” She greeted. We mumbled our greetings back to her. “What’s wrong?”

“Stiles needs to see Dr. Gardner.” I told her.

“Okay,” Melissa looked back at the computer before typing something in. “Um, it looks like Dr. Gardner’s not back until next week. Do you want to try waiting for one of the urgent care doctors, or—”

“Uh—” Stiles leaned back from the desk, tears in his eyes as he looked around.

“Stiles.” Melissa stood up from her chair, looking at him worriedly. “Are you all right?”

Stiles looked a deep, shuddering breath. “I don’t—I don’t know.” He stammered. “I guess—I guess not really.”

Melissa walked around the desk and stood in front of us. She nodded and took Stiles’ other arm and said soothingly, “All right, kiddo. All right. Come with me. It’s okay.”

Melissa guided us up to the third floor after checking Stiles in as a patient. She got Stiles situated into a room and had him sit on the bed after taking off his sweatshirt. I sat next to him, clutching his hand tightly.

“Are you having any symptoms?” Melissa asked, posing a pen over a chart.

“Blackouts, but not for that long. And sleepwalking, which I used to do a lot as a kid.” Stiles listed. “Um, I’m also having some really bad anxiety.”

Melissa, who had been writing as Stiles spoke, looked over at him abruptly. “Panic attacks?”

“Yeah, a couple.” Stiles confirmed. “Oh, and I temporarily lost the ability to read, but that might have had more to do with this giant magic tree and a whole human sacrifice thing.”

Melissa grinned in amusement and nodded. “I recall something vaguely about that, yes. How many hours of sleep are you getting?”

“Eight.” Stiles said immediately.

Melissa looked taken aback. “A night?” She asked.

“In the last three days.” Stiles said, looking down at our intertwined hands. He spread out his fingers on his unoccupied hand and flicked them, as if he were counting when he had gotten some sleep. “Yeah, definitely eight.”

Melissa walked away from the table and walked over to the locked medicine cabinet on the other side of the room. She took out a key and unlocked it before grabbing something from a drawer and shutting the cabinet closed.

“Feeling irritable?” She asked.

“Yeah.” Stiles sighed. “Possibly to the point of homicide.”

Melissa nodded and walked back over to us. “Inability to focus?”

“No, the Adderall’s not working.”

“Impulsive behavior?” She grabbed a pair of rubber gloves and put them on .

“More than my usual?” Stiles said. “Hard to tell.”

“Vivid dreams during the day?” Melissa wondered, though her tone suggested that she knew what was going on.

“Okay, basically all of the above.” Stiles replied.

“Do you know what this is?” I asked anxiously.

Melissa cocked her head and nodded at us with a smile. She had a needle in her hand. “I think so.”

Stiles looked at the long needle. “Uh, what’s that?”

“Do you trust me?” Melissa responded.

“When you’re not holding a needle.” Stiles retorted softly.

Melissa chuckled and pulled up the sleeve of his t-shirt. She wiped an area down with some antiseptic and pressed the needle into Stiles’ flesh, injecting the medicine. “It’s Midazolam. A sedative.”

Stiles looked up at her as she look the needle out of his arm and placed it in a red hazard container.

“Why’d you give me a sedative?” He asked.

“Because you, Stiles, are one profoundly sleep-deprived young man. You need rest and you need it now.” She placed her hands on his shoulders and I got up from the bed, freeing up space so that Stiles could lay down. “Lie down.”

“Okay, how long does it take to—” Stiles started to say but stopped as he slowly laid his head down on his pillow. “Oh. Not long at all.”

I stepped back and watched as Melissa pulled up the blanket over Stiles’ body. Stiles snuggled into his pillow and my heart clenched at how worried I was. More was happening to him than he told me, and I didn’t know of half the stuff he told Melissa.

“Get some rest.” Melissa told him, putting her palm on his forehead.

Stiles gripped the top of the blanket and closed his eyes, letting out a soft, “Thanks, Mom.”

Melissa smiled sadly and turned off the light on the bedside table. Stiles’ soft snores echoed through the room. I turned to go sit in the armchair by the bed, but Melissa grabbed my arm.

“What?” I whispered, looking at her questionably.

“Come with me.” She whispered back, grabbing Stiles’ chart and grabbing my hand.

She led me out of the room and into the hallway. She walked quickly and I briskly followed after her. As we got into the elevator, she pressed the fifth-floor button and turned to me as the doors closed.

“I didn’t want to say anything to Stiles, in case I was wrong.” She said breathlessly. “But I recognized some of his symptoms; the hallucinations, the impulsivity, irritability, and insomnia.”

“Okay, so what—” I shook my head, confused. “What do you think it is?”

The elevator stopped on the fifth floor and the doors opened. Melissa walked out of the elevator without answering me, and I followed her until we stopped at a door that was labeled ‘Records’. Melissa opened the door and led me into the room filed with charts. She looked around for a second before grabbing a chart off one of the shelves.

She opened the thick file and placed Stiles’ file on top of it, comparing the notes. Finally, she spoke, reading off the other patient’s chart. “’Patient is irritable and impulsive. Complaints of vivid dreams during the day. Inability to distinguish between fantasy and reality.’” Melissa looked back over to Stiles’ chart. “Acute insomnia.”

She closed the other patient’s file and I gasped at the large ‘deceased’ stamp on the front. Right above it was Stiles’ mother’s name: Claudia Stilinski.

“No,” I muttered, shaking my head in denial. “No, that can’t be—”

“Y/N.” Melissa said in a soothing tone. “We won’t know until we can get some tests done.” She placed Claudia’s file back on the shelf.

My hands were shaking as I thought about Stiles. He couldn’t have what Claudia had. He was young—too young to die. He hadn’t lived his life yet. He hadn’t been able to do anything.

I let out a sob and pressed my hands against my mouth. We wouldn’t get married or have kids. I wouldn’t get to live my life with him. How could I live without him? He was my soulmate, for fucks sake. I couldn’t lose him. I just couldn’t.

“Y/N.” Melissa pulled me into a tight hug. I cried into her shoulder. “I know, sweetie. I know.”

We stood there for a while, me crying into her shoulder. After a while I pulled away, wiping my tears off my face with the back of my hand.

“Honey, I know this is tough, but you can’t say anything to Stiles just yet, okay?” Melissa said, taking a hold of my hand. I looked at her in shock. “I want to talk to Noah first before we do anything.”

“Okay.” I agreed hesitantly. “Fine.”

-

“Y/N, wake up!” I heard Scott’s voice coming from above me. “Y/N, wake up, Stiles is gone.”

I slowly opened my eyes and saw Scott standing in front of me. I looked around the room in confusion. After talking with Melissa, I went back to Stiles’ room to sit with him while he slept. I must’ve fallen asleep.

“Stiles is gone?” I repeated, confused. “He was just here.”

“Come on, let’s look for him.” Scott said, grabbing my hand and pulling me from the armchair.

We walked through the hallways as Scott followed Stiles’ scent. As we passed a set of double doors, Scott abruptly turned, opening the doors to reveal Stiles. Stiles was standing still in the middle of the room, looking at the wall in front of him.

“Stiles?” I called out. “Are you okay?”

Stiles turned around. “Yeah, fine.” He said, walking toward Scott and I. “What’s been going on?”

 Tag List

@julzdec @karamelcoveredolicity @thegirlalmighty01 @avadakedabitch @belleknows @supernaturallover2002  @dontstopxx @feelingsareharddd @brien-odylan  @shewritesshedraws @dylnobrien1911 @kaleyana @mad-hatter-021 @nikcentric @addietagglikesbands @seninjakitey @shayke-and-bake @southsiderepresent @screamxqueenx94 @lostinwonderland314  @multifandomtrash67 @caitsymichelle13 @barryallenplease  @dafine18

[mynameisdreartblog]

Christmas Decorations 3

Libra: Dreidel. A big thank you to everyone, in the room, for helping me achieve my lifelong dream of growing into a giant and rolling around in the Epcot ball like a gigantic hamster. It's been a journey, to say the least, and I'm overjoyed that you all became a part of it. […] Today, I feel a new energy fill us all, and I think we're ready for the next step in achieving our dreams. Here, at Epcot park, I can feel energy coming from all cultured sections, of the park, combining at the center of the magnum opus: the Spaceship Earth (God, it's so sexy). <Deep inhaling>, that's right, we'll see our new world order come alive at this moment. It wasn't the stars that had to aligned, but rather our theme parks that had to do so. I call upon Superland, Magic Land, and Everland to join in their power so that my body can be a vessel for Spaceship Earth. […] Yes, the light feeds into me and I can feel my soul leaving this mortal form and transferring itself into the hive consciousness of the Epcot: I can feel my veins being replaced by the power grid of the park, and I can feel my body expanding in mass to encompass several acres of Orlando. The earth now shakes and the park guests tremble in fear, but they haven't seen what I'm, no, we're capable of yet. […] I have awoken in my true form: the faceless deity that contains the pinnacle of intellect within its structure. The hamster within has awoken, and it'll roam and bring destruction upon this entire earth, all for one reason: to produce another G-Force movie. This time, it'll be perfected with the arcane energy from the gods. 

Cancer: Virtual fireplace. I have this weird sorta association with furniture stores where they have all the elements of a house, but they're organized in such a way that makes it uncanny to see them in the way they're presented in those buildings. I gaze into one just down the street, of where I work, and it's always so eerie to look into. For one, the lights aren't even on in that place for a good amount of the day, so you can tell it's an older building. The second thing is that I know the person who works there: Gertrudis. I know them from my time when I had to bargain for a decently-sized couch that could fill the receptionist's area. I ended up with two, brown hard-wedge sofas: both that never saw use after two patients ended up with their pant pocket stripped away after getting up from them. […] Gertrudis is often seen two hours before noon: they're usually wandering around the area where I bought those two sofas; they walk steadily around it. They're not doing anything malicious; they're just providing an unwelcoming yet intriguing aura: I swear, they're trying to convey something every time they walk around that specific stand. Besides them, there's also occasional condensation that appears on the windows in the middle of the summer. There's something breathing on them to cause that, and it specifically comes from where the recliners are displayed: who knows what it is, but I do know that it's real, 'cause I see Gertrudis come up to that very spot and wipe it off and never acknowledge how strange it is to be there. […] I don't know what's going on, but I think specters inhabit that place, but I don't know why they want pockets so much: I've had to embrace chaps at this point.

Virgo: I fucking hate Christmas. Does the song Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer being in past tense imply that Rudolph is dead? Does every song being in past tense imply that the subject, of that song, is dead? Whatever the answer to that is, I should be focusing on festive songs: particularly about how Rudolph is a dead deer. I don't care at all about the message that deviation from the norm "will be punished unless its exploitable" stuff. What I care about is whether or not Rudolph is actually dead, and I also wanna wonder if anyone was personally devastated by his death. […] You see, I'm actually very interested in the grander lore between each pocket of Christmas stories. I've been concocting a theory for months, and it revolves around multiple festive stories: Grandma Got Ran Over by a Reindeer, Angela's Christmas, The Night Before Christmas, & Dabangg 2. Now, we first start off with Grandma getting run over by a reindeer: in that one, Rudolph was enacting his revenge upon Grandma for the abuses he suffered under her care. Then, we move onto Angela's Christmas where she takes the Church's replica of baby Jesus in because it was actually the child of Grandma, who was run over by Rudolph. Grandma is actually the Virgin Mary in this context, and it made total sense because the commodification of Christmas (as represented by Rudolph) kills the sacred origins of the holiday by running them over. In The Night Before Christmas, the village of Dikanka is overrun with the devil by the absence of the baby Jesus and that's what leads Vakula to use the devil to help him fly to his lover, who is actually inspector Chulbul Pandey, but he's too busy trying to locate the boy who was kidnapped. […] I will explain how this all ties into The Disappearance of Haruhi Suzumiya later.

Sagittarius: Stockings that ruined your mantel. I was really focused on that bird, but I didn't notice the art display in the background about thirty yards away. I fired the shot regardless. What resulted was a huge bullet hole in a newly purchased art piece, and a whole lot of plausible deniability. […] If you wanna know the details, I was planning to bag a blue crane to start off the hunting season, but I was given a notice telling me that they're off-limits. Because my sense of pride is very fragile, I decided to hunt for a black duck instead in order to fulfill my primal bloodlust (it makes me feel alive, you see)? My destination was set: a hillside bordering the expanse of a neighborhood in the Bhunya village just southwest of Mbabane. My gun? A Denel NTW-20 anti-materiel rifle containing a 20×82mm cartridge. The effective firing range is 1,500m with a 20×82mm cartridge: exactly what I was using. What was also 1,500m away was that priceless Michel Quarez painting: the one with a pinkish penis on it. It was a simplistic, yet imposing piece of artwork that captured the focus of my scope long before I was waiting for the duck to appear within it. It's not shameful to admit that, I hope. Rather, we shouldn't be shaming people for admiring modernistic art in any way they can: it's a media form that we're leaving behind and we need people to keep the legacy of it alive through casual admiration. […] This isn't the point though, as the real meat of this story was when that goose, er, duck finally flew into my scope. I can recall the image perfectly: it was perched on a tree branch in the exact thirty-yard distance away from me. I could feel the blood course through my trigger-finger and, without hesitation, I shot. […] Then the stupid-ass bird did an anime-esque pose and disappeared, allowing the bullet to pierce straight through the art. I ruined a beautiful penile piece and that's why I don't take hunting so seriously anymore.

[joylessholland]

Rivals (Part 2) Harry Potter!au

TOMXREADER!wizards

(1,703 words)  Warnings: Swearing, spells

A/N: This part has taken me so long to make again it will because I really wanna do Harry Potter justice. All of the spells in the imagine come from an official website So if I used some wrong please tell me. Thanks for the moodboard @kingquackdaddy   BTW I’m so close to 200 kittens (i’ve tried posting this like 3 times it won't show up on the page HELP)

Masterlist  Requests  Part One

The sound of someone rummaging through a bag of candy startled you awake, opening your eyes the brightness of the world shocked your senses “Hey, you're awake.” Mary giggled wrist deep in a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans “What…happened” you ask sitting up hissing in pain as a horrible pain shoots through your arm “You fell off your broom” Mary says putting a pillow under your back “No, I was knocked off, I’ve pulled that move off one thousand times, it was him…wasn’t it?” you growl grabbing a jelly bean “I told you he was competitive.” She said shyly as Madam Pomfrey waddles over “How are you feeling, dear?” looking over your arm she mutters a little spell under her breath making the pain go away. “Better now.” You smile as she grabs you robes from the drawer “No rigorous activity till that heals, that means no…” “Don’t say it” you interrupt sighing sadly “No quidditch” she coos walking away

The rest of the day went by slowly that was until study hour, a loud flap echoes through the great hall as a hawk lands on Toms book with a loud screech. “Hey, their birdy” he chuckles as his friend point to you “She’s trained to catch snakes.” You snap poking Tom in the shoulder “Wrong house love” his voice arrogant “look I’m sorry you can’t keep your hands on your broom, but that’s not my fault.” He smirks “Why you little…” you stop yourself “You might think that your little stunt put me out for the season, it didn’t.” you growl storming off

“you sure you’re alright, sweetheart,” your mother asks over the mirror “yes, mother. You don’t have to come, it’s just a broken arm. Madam Pomfrey is healing it daily for me.” “So, what are you gonna do about that boy?” her voice changed from mother to teenage girl in a matter of seconds “What can I do? I can’t prove he did anything” “You could turn him into a rat and let Aya play with him.” You mother laughs “MOM!” you shout in disbelief “Kidding, kidding maybe, no kidding. You’ll get through this don’t worry. I have to go someone’s here. Be good, love you” “Love you,” you say before closing the mirror and placing into your pocket.

A gust of cold wind swept over the roof as you stared at the moon petting Aya. She hisses in your arms as the door you the roof opens and Tom walks out tip of his wand shining bright “Nox” he whispers and the light fizzles out “What do you want?” you ask not giving him a second glance “I wanted to apologize, I’m not usually an ass, I was just doing that so…” he looks at the ground “What” turning you look at him “Why when is come to me are you a huge div” “because my friends were there” “That gives you the right” you snap stomping over to him “to be a horrible person, what if I was killed? What if I would have gone flying into the crown? What if…” “But you didn’t” he cuts you off “That’s not the point, you div” you snarl “calm down, love.” He smiles. Why was his smile so cute you hated that it made you want to forgive him “I understand where your coming from and I’m sorry” squinting your eyes “and” sighing he laughs “and I was a huge div, who got too competitive and shouldn’t have said those things about you” he smiled again and you finally gave in “Fine walk me back to my dorm. Aya!” swooping down the hawk changes into a small monkey that sits on your shoulder pulling out his wand he flicks it in the air “Lumos” a small bead of light appears on the tip of his hand. Holding out his arm he asks “Shall we” jumping down from your shoulder Aya lands on his arm and scratches her head ‘We shall” you say walking to the door.

Snowflakes floated in the air as the cold air of winter nipped at your exposed skin. “See you after the holiday,” Mary said passing you in the courtyard “Happy Christmas” you shout after her walking back into the castle. Reaching your hand deep into your handbag you pull out a small jar of grey powder. Footsteps on the stone floor snaps your attention to Tom walking over to you. “Aren’t you going home for Christmas?” you ask as he stands next to you “No” Tom says sadly “what about your parents? ”They don’t actually know I’m here” he sighed looking at his shoes “What? Aren’t they worried sick?” you say putting a hand on his shoulder “Maybe, or they’re just happy their freak of a son is out of their hair” Joining him looking at the floor feeling a little bad for him. Just a few months ago you wanted to push him off the roof, but now after getting you know him a little better you realize he’s isn’t that bad. “You know? I could use some help at the shop.” Sheepishly you hold up the jar of grey powder “Floo Powder?” Tom asks as you shove him into the fireplace in front of you “Just say… Ollivander’s” swallowing hard you pour a bit of powder into his hand “Are you sure?” nodding he stands as straight as he can in the small fireplace “Ollivander’s” he shouts throwing the powder at his feet. Tom is quickly engulfed in green flames, disappearing. Repeating his actions, you feel a small bit of warmth on your skin before stepping out of a tall fireplace in a crowded attic.

“Home sweet home” you cough waving away dust in the air. “Come on, let's get the shop open.” You say rushing to the little hatch in the floor “Wait, you were being serious about the whole needing help at the shop?” Tom scoffed “Why else would I have invited you” winking you open the hatch and jump down.

A small old woman wearing tattered robes steps in “Costumer” Tom says from his spot on a high latter, stocking wands. “Good morning Miss Wheeler, your wand is ready just give me one second,” You say stepping into the workshop. “Good morning,” Tom says wiping the dust off his hands “You’re new,” she says leaning on the counter “Holiday helper” Tom jokes as you walk in with an old wand box. Placing it on the counter the old women slowly opens the box gasping when she sees the slim piece of wood. “It’s so beautiful,” she says weakly tears brimming in her eyes “How much?” she asks pulling out a small brown coil bag “Five silver” shooting you a confused look Tom keeps his mouth shut. Paying the woman extends her gratitude leaving the shop cradling the box. “A wand like that is at least five GOLD,” Tom says as you put the money away “It was her husband’s wand, it burned in a fire. It’s all she has of him.” A shrill scream from outside raises Tom from his chair, running outside you see three large men crowding the old woman. One trying to pry the wand from her grasp.

Pulling out his wand Tom points at the nearest man “Stupefy” he yells sending the man flying down the cobblestone streets. Turning to the pair of you the other men raise their wands “Back off kids and we won’t hurt you.” Flicking your wand at the smaller man her defects the quick spell shooting another at you, dodging it the men begin walking towards you “Confundo” Tom snaps flourishing his wand striking one man in the chest making him stumble and fall over grabbing his head “Why you little” one says raising his wand “Expelliarmus” you snap making his wand fly from his hand, “Accio” he screams as his wand flies back to his hand turning his attention to you he smirks “Everte Statum” feeling a rush of pressure you are flung back into a stack of boxes. Hearing a loud ringing your vision goes blurry for a moment seeing Tom fighting the man off he uses a spell to rocket the man down the street. Slowly raising to your feet, you notice the man Tom had charmed was free of the spell and was pointing his wand at you. Looking at your wand on the ground you freeze as the large man flicks his wrist “Sectumsempra” he shouts at you. Running and sliding on his feet Tom is hit with the brunt of the spell. Falling to the ground you hear the woman shout some spell you count quite make out. The tip of her wand was spewing white flames scaring the men off.

Grabbing your wand, you look back to Tom, gasping at the sight of him you rush to his side. A series of small gashes were visible on his exposed skin. Blood soaked through his shirt as he gasped for air writhing in pain. Closing your eyes, you think hard for a moment. waving your wand over his body “Vulnera Sanentur” you mutter as the blood slowly begins to disappear. Gripping your arm, he breathes in deeply sitting up with a jolt “Are you okay” he pants checking you for injuries. “Thanks for the save,” you say brushing his curls from his face “You could have died, I sure as hell didn’t know that spell you did.” “A lot of time in the infirmary you catch a few things” you joke helping him up hissing in pain. “Your arm” he snaps grabbing your hand leading you back into the shop.

“There all better” Tom says closing the first aid kit “Thank you,” you say as he puts it back in a cabinet. Walking over to you he looks deeply into your eyes “It was nothing” he says. Getting lost in his eyes you grab his collar and smash his lips against yours. For a moment he tenses but soon relaxes into the kiss and his hand finds its way to the back of your neck. Breaking the kiss, he presses his forehead against yours “I should save you more often” grinning you kiss him again.

[laurabk-writes]

SOULDIERS: Chapter One

(PG-13 for some swear words, if that matters to you)

A thumbs up had popped onto the screen of his smartwatch almost half an hour ago. The GPS didn’t show them as being quite that far away, but traffic was usually congested during that hour on a Monday. Zach tried to distract himself from worry by making sure everything was ready for their return home. The large shaker coffee table was set with plates and forks, with each teen’s favorite drink set at their place. A folded towel sat ready at the center for when the curry could be taken off the stove. Their fleece blankets had been gathered and piled on the sofa along with all the loose decorative pillows of the room. But he had the feeling that something was missing.

He stepped back into the kitchen and glanced around, then he remembered: the pain relievers were still sitting on the countertop beneath their usual cabinet. He brought them into the living room and set them on the edge of the table, now seeing that everything was as it should be. Except for the missing people to occupy it.

Samae was the first to stumble in. The front door swung wearily open as she nearly tripped over the threshold. Zach finally began to feel relieved, until he saw the whole girl. It was difficult to tell where the girl’s long black hair ended and the rest of her began. She was covered head to toe in deep black soot and carried the sharp odor of burning hair. But once inside, she held up her hand to stop him from speaking.

“I am fine,” she said in a halfhearted tone. “I just need a shower.” She dropped her backpack by the sofa, kicked off her shoes, and lumbered toward the stairs.

Shortly after, a shorter young woman burst in - Micha. “I said I’m sorry!” she called after Samae. When Samae didn’t respond but progressed up the stairs, Micha huffed. “Fine.” She turned to Zach, only just noticing him standing there. “She’s fine, it’s fine, we’re all fine. Just some accidental friendly fire is all.” She paused to sniff the air. “You made curry?”

Zach simply nodded.

“Ugh! Damnit, I can’t stay, I have an early morning tomorrow.”

Zach held up a finger to signal for her to wait as he disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a tupperware full of curry for her.

“Okay,” she said, “it’s a bit scary that you know me this well already, but not as scary as me wanting to tell you how much I love you right now.” She yanked him closer to plant a quick, rough kiss on his forehead, then left with tupperware in hand.

He hardly had time to recover before Gabriele came through the door. She stopped on the doormat to take off her shoes and gently set them aside on the shoe rack. She seemed calm, aside from one of her low-pulled, rose-blonde pigtails hanging loose, missing its hair tie.

“Hi, Zach,” she said with her usual polite smile. “Sorry it took a little while. Micha’s tire had a leak and she had to replace it.”

“That’s alright,” Zach said. He wanted to request that next time they would text him about that sort of thing, but he knew he had to give them a certain amount of trust. The thumbs up meant that everyone was alive and well and on their way home, and he needed to let that be. “Go ahead and sit down. You all can tell me about it after we eat.”

Gabriele nodded and took her seat at the coffee table where the bottled peach iced tea was placed. She picked up the remote, turned on the TV, and tried to remember where they had left off the previous night with their favorite show.

Zach knew that Ana and Cass were coming next because he could hear them from down the driveway. They continued arguing as they stepped inside and took off their shoes.

“No, no, that’s not how it works!” Cass insisted as he dropped a shoe onto the shoe rack. The shoe lost its balance and tumbled to the floor. “It’s not enough that a pig would have wings, it would need some big-ass wings to carry its weight. Birds can fly because their bones are hollow and it makes them light enough to fly, and they probably don’t have as much fat in their body mass index as pigs.”

“Hollow bones?” Ana asked, bewildered as her shoe went flying and hit the side of the sofa. Her backpack bounded after it. “What?! Wouldn’t their organs crush them or something?”

“Bones are still made of harder stuff than organs. It’s like packing pretzels into a bag of marshmallows.”

“I call bullshit.”

“Fine, I’m googling it!” he declared as he took out his phone.

They barely paused their discussion as they went to take their seats at the coffee table. Five down, one to go. And the last one wasn’t far behind. Rapha shut and locked the door behind her after coming inside. She sighed heavily as though catching her breath and gave Zach an eyeroll with a crooked grin.

“Hey, Zach,” she said as she took a moment to lean against the door, holding a paper bag of groceries. “How’s it goin’?”

“Pretty good,” he replied, more casually than he felt at the moment. “Where was it this time?”

“Midtown, near the public pool. But it’s okay.” She put her shoes on the rack then pat him on the shoulder. “Target subdued, no one hurt. Just a bent fence and a flat tire.”

“Gabriele told me about the tire.”

She cocked her head with her brows knit. “I texted you. Didn’t I text you?” She looked down at her smartwatch, tapped it a couple times, then whined: “Fuuuuuck. I missed that other button again. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay now,” he assured her, “just sit down.”

Zach took the bag of groceries to the kitchen for her, while Rapha took her seat at the coffee table, just in time for Gabriele to turn on the next episode of their latest favorite Australian sitcom called Razorwire. Zach turned off the stove and brought out the large pot of curry, placing it on the center of the table. Everyone took turns doling out their own portion, remaining mostly quiet as they ate and watched. Zach took his own portion and sat behind them on the sofa with a can of cola. He wasn’t as big a fan of the show as the others were, but at least it was better than that British one with the talking partridge. That was two and a half seasons of pure torture.

As usual, Ana fell straight asleep as soon as she finished eating, leaning back against the sofa, her head of billowing brown curls adding padding to the cushion. But everyone else was available to talk. Zach unplugged his laptop computer from its perch on the side table, set it on his lap, and booted it up.

“It was midtown,” he mumbled as he began typing, “near the public pool. That’s Ingolfsson Memorial Aquatic Center. Right in the middle of a neighborhood of two-story ranch houses with a dog in every front yard.”

Gabriele raised her hand slightly. “I think I saw a cat in the window of one of them.”

“That’s nice to hear,” he remarked as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “So. How’d it go down?”

Though only just graduated from high school and not that much older than any of them, Zach had always commanded an authority that none of them felt free to question - not even Micha, who was the oldest of them all, nearing twenty-one years old. So when he saw them silently exchanging glances, he could tell they were debating just how much to fudge the truth, and who would be best at doing that. They eventually shrugged and joined in on looking to one person, deferring to Rapha to speak. Now he knew they would try for the truth. She thoughtfully combed her fingers through her auburn hair to loose a knot before speaking.

“Micha made the call. She was swimming at the pool after work. There was this guy, she thought maybe in his mid-thirties, who came through the building and just stood at the side of the pool looking around. He was in a full business suit. Not exactly subtle, really.” She shrugged to her compatriots. “Micha said that it seemed like he was looking right past her, like at the girl swimming behind her, and that’s when he activated his magic.”

“Did anyone notice him vanishing?” Zach asked, typing all the while he was listening.

“Oh. Micha didn’t say. And we forgot to ask.”

“Okay. What then?”

Rapha hesitated as she tried to remember what else Micha had said. “Micha activated her magic right away. She said it should have looked like she just ducked into the water, not vanished. She built up a wave and sent it right at him. He got knocked against the building. A couple people on the lounge chairs nearby got splashed, but they were alright. Then she beeped for all of us.”

“About what time was that again?”

“4:45.”

“Right right. Cass was home, Ana was still at school for machinists club, I had sent Rapha to the store...Gabriele, where were you at the time?”

Gabriele blinked. “Um. I was in the backyard.”

Zach winced. “That’s right, you were reading on the swing, I’m sorry.”

Cass nudged Gabriele, saying, “Well, she just crept around the back like a ninja, after all. Didn’t even say ‘hi’.”

“I was just - ” Gabriele began to protest.

“Don’t...” Cass said with a smirk. “I was just messin’ with you.”

Zach looked up from his laptop for a moment, his eyes straight ahead as he mentally made sure he had then accounted for each member of the group. “And Micah at the pool. Oh, Samae. Where was she?”

Rapha answered, “She was on her way to the pool. The same pool.”

“Got it. Go on.”

Rapha went on to describe supernatural events in a very matter-of-fact manner. Each member of the group arrived to the pool as Micah fended off the man in the suit by violently manipulating the water. All the surrounding patrons managed to flee the scene without serious injury, including the girl that the man originally had meant to attack. At one point, Gabriele was knocked into the water and struggled to keep afloat in the choppy waves, but her pixies were able to pull her out of danger. The battle wasn’t easy, but the team was fairly well in sync. Up to the incident.

“So when did Micah catch Samae on fire?” Zach asked. He asked as though he were a teacher asking a college student what the sum of two and two is. But the group hesitated as though calculating the square root of pi.

Rapha spoke up: “Well, we were having a hard time figuring out what the enemy souldier’s power was. See, this one time that a wave was going at him, he held out his hand, and it froze in place. So Micah thought that he probably had some kind of frost magic. So she threw a fireball at it to see if it would melt, but it bounced off and flew over toward Samae. She dodged out of the way before it hit her full-force, but um...she still got singed a bit.”

Zach didn’t look up from his laptop as he continued to type. “So maybe we don’t test things by throwing fire at them from now on.” He glanced at his watch. “I’ll call her in the morning.”

As if on cue, Samae came down the stairs in pajamas, her hair combed but still a little damp. She scooped herself a portion of curry without hesitation, glad to see there was still some steam rising from it. There was a large scorch mark on her right wrist.

“Are you okay?” Gabriele asked.

“A couple burns,” Samae answered between bites. “It took almost half a bottle of shampoo to get all the ashes out.”

Zach nodded. “Just be sure to sit with Rapha before you go to bed.”

Samae nodded but continued eating. “Did you put pears in this?”

“Apples,” Zach corrected.

She smiled a little as she took another bite.

Everyone else sat silent as Zach finished typing something. Then he looked up at them. “Were you able to figure out his magic?”

“We thought maybe,” Cass said, “some kind of kinetic energy thing?”

“So he moved things as well as froze them?”

After thinking a moment and silently conferring with his comrades, he stuttered, “I...I don’t think...so? Just froze things?”

“Just one thing at a time?”

Gabriele piped up, “There was one time where he froze Rapha, then it looked like he tried to freeze Cass, but it didn’t really work.”

Zach nodded pensively. “What happened to him, the enemy souldier? Rapha said you guys subdued him?”

“We did. But then he disappeared.”

“Like disappeared from you, or just became invisible like you all do with humans?”

“Disappeared from us.”

Zach stared at his laptop screen a moment, tapping his fingers against his tightly drawn mouth. “Okay. Thank you. You can go back to your show now.”

Cass switched the TV back on as everyone turned their attention away from Zach. Ana suddenly jolted up, awake. She looked around at very much the same scene she fell asleep to, but checking the time confirmed that she probably missed the debriefing. But no one said anything as she pulled her purple fleece blanket off the sofa and around her shoulders to watch the show with them.

Eventually, they collected their dishes and loaded the dishwasher. Then the girls climbed upstairs to their bedrooms to sleep. Cass went to his bedroom on the first floor, closing his door more loudly than he intended. Rapha remained behind, intently watching Zach as he continued work on his laptop.

She spoke up: “You’re getting some sleep at some point too, right?”

“Yes, I will get some sleep,” he said softly as he took off his glasses to massage his eyes and the bridge of his nose.

She rose to her feet with a soft smile. “Thank you for the most excellent curry.”

“You are most welcome. Goodnight.”

Rapha accepted that as a cue to leave him be. So she bid goodnight and went upstairs. Zach put his laptop back on the side table and plugged it in. He stretched himself out across the sofa, shifting until he was comfortable. He intended to do some more thinking, but could only manage one half-formed thought before drifting off to sleep.

[takemetotheriotofthestars]

Don’t do That Again (Wendigo S1, Ep2, Pt3)

Supernatural Season 1 Ep2 Part3 Warnings: Swearing Words: 1,994

Masterlist

A/n: Annnnd we are done with Episode two! Sorry this isn’t as recent as the other’s were published in time frame. I was busy last week and this week. Halloween and assignments due, all that jazz. Well, feel free to give me feed back or ask to be tagged, I wouldn’t mind! Thank you for reading, enjoy~

The group ran to where they last heard your yells come from, but you weren’t there. Your gun laid on the forest floor as silence surrounded them. Dean’s and Sam’s eyes scanned their surroundings for any hint or sight of where you were, but came up with nothing, all there was seemingly endless amounts of trees and bushes. “God dammit!” Dean yelled in anger, he threw his hands up in the air and Sam took deep breaths, his shoulders quickly going up and down. “Okay, okay, uh, t-think.” Sam stuttered, he held his head in his hands. “Y/n screamed in this direction and- and the wendigo climbs trees, using them as a way to get around and lure its victims.” Dean placed his hands on the back of his head as he forced himself to take a careful look around again. “If it keeps its victims alive, why would it kill Roy?” Ben asked, his eyes looked at every detail of the tree’s closest to him. Before he looked at the ground for any claw marks or footprints “Honestly? I think because Roy shot at it, pissed it off.” Sam answered, Haley noticed what her brother was looking at before she picked it up and held it for the boys to look at. “Some candy Dean had earlier.” Haley commented, Dean stuffed his hands into his trench coat before he pulled out an empty bag of M&M’s. “Son of a bitch.” Dean stuck his hand into the plastic to make absolutely sure it was empty. To his dismay, it was. “Y/n is like a fucking raccoon.” Sam laughs as Haley hands him the piece of blue colored candy. “Well, it’s better than breadcrumbs.” Sam laughs as he begins to follow the candy trail. “She could’ve at least asked, when did she even take it without me noticing?” Sam and Haley shrug. “Maybe when we were sitting around the campfire all night? Did you see the bags underneath her eyes this morning? She obviously didn’t go to sleep.” Ben replied, Dean rolled his eyes as they quietly followed the trail, each of them keeping lookout for the monster. *** A groan escaped your mouth as your eyes slowly opened, your hands felt numb and the rest of your body felt sore like you were hit with a ton of bricks. You blinked the blurriness away from your eyes before you looked around you. A pile of bones were in the corner and some were scattered around what looked like a mine you were in. Cobwebs hung above you along with your wrists that were tied. You looked to your right, Haley’s and Ben’s brother was in the same position as you, he sniffled and suppressed a sob that wanted to escape. His eyes were wide from what he saw while you were out, he watched his friend die from that monster. “Tommy?” You whispered, your voice hoarse from the dry throat you had, You licked your lips to wet them as you stared at the man. “How do you know my name?” He whispered back, he knew to keep quiet from what happened. “I know this is a sucky situation we’re both in, and what I’m about to say won’t make it any better. But, uh, I came here to rescue you.” He scoffs at your answer before realizing you weren't joking. He opened his mouth to reply but shut it once you both heard the growling, you watched him shut his eyes and soon you followed. You counted the seconds in your head before you heard footsteps heading in your direction. “Y/n!” Sam yelled, your eyes snapped open at the sound of your name leaving his mouth. He stood directly in front of you, his hand on your cheek. You stared at him. “Sam?” You whispered before your eyes look over his shoulder to see his brother staring at you with fear and distress. “Are you okay?” Sam asked, you look back at him, your head pounded and you felt like you should've stayed in bed this morning. You nodded slowly before wincing at the sharp pain in your skull. “Yeah, I will be.” You mumble, as he began to cut you down, catching you once the rope snapped. His hands were on your waist before he gently lowered you to the ground. You rubbed your wrists as you looked at Dean cutting down Tommy. Haley hugged her brother tightly and he wrapped his arms around her. Your eyes land on the older brother who looked at you with concern in his eyes. “Can you walk?” He asked, you nodded before wincing from the pain in your skull. He handed your gun to you, you took it and held the weapon with both hands, Tommy was being supported by his siblings as they helped him sit down on the ground. You sat down next to him before you let out a pained groan. “You sure you’re okay?” Sam repeated the question. “Yeah…” You whisper before clearing your throat. “Where is it?” “He's gone for now.” Sam said while his eyes scanned the darkness. You nod as you took a deep breath before forcing yourself to stand up on wobbly feet. ‘Come on, y/n, you’ve been in situations like this before, you got this, you thought as Dean walked ahead while you and the young Winchester guarded the back of the group. You took quiet, deep breaths. The musty air filling your lungs before you exhaled and repeated the process. “We were worried about you.” Sam whispers, you glance at him before your eyes returned to the darkness around you. The outline’s of Haley and her brother’s figures could be seen as you walked. “I could tell.” You whisper back. Dean stops and picks up something from a corner before he turns back and gestures to the group to come closer. “Flare gun.” He says, holding it out for everyone to take a look. A grin spread across Sam’s and your face as Dean lets out a laugh. You and the other’s continued down the tunnel for a while before all of you heard growling. Haley and her brothers froze in fear as she let out a gasp, you look at the Winchester boys. “Looks like someone's home for supper.” Dean says, glancing at you and his brother. “We'll never outrun it.” Haley comments, a unhopeful look in her eyes. “You thinking what I'm thinking?” Dean asks, a look on his face that you seen before when he thought of a plan that might end him. “Dean, no-” You start but he cuts you off. “All right, listen to me. Stay with Sam.” He looks at you directly before looking at Haley. “He's gonna get you out of here.” “What are you gonna do?” Haley asks, Dean winks and turns around, he begins to walk away. “Dean-” You start, taking a step forward and reaching out to grab his coat. Sam grabbed your outstretched arm before he pulled you away from chasing after the older Winchester. “Chow time, you freaky bastard! Yeah, that's right, bring it on, baby, I taste good.” Dean yells, Sam pulls you away despite your fighting. That should be you going after the monster, you thought, that should be you instead of your best friend. Sam didn’t let go of you until Dean’s words became indistinct. “All right, come on! Hurry!” Sam yells once Dean is a safe distance away. You bite your lip before following after the Collinses and the young Winchester. You and the others hurry further down the tunnel before hearing the growling from the one and only thing that could cause it. A Wendigo. You and Sam point a gun at it, as Sam yells for the three siblings to get out. Haley and Ben help their brother go quickly down the tunnel after the sister tried to argue to stay there. Sam gripped the flare gun as you tighten your grip on your weapon. “You should’ve gone with them.” He says, his eyes pointed straight ahead into the darkness. “Yeah, well, I didn’t.” You say as you listened the growling get closer. “I’m here.” You turned around once you heard it directly behind you; and there it stood. It’s hands in the air, getting ready to twist your head off of your body. Sam pulled the trigger at the same time you do, both of you miss before the two of you took off down the tunnel. The pounding in your head made you wince as Sam ran ahead of you due to his long legs. “Let’s go!” You yell once you catch up with the siblings. The Wendigo was behind you as you took Ben’s spot in helping his brother. You reach the end of the tunnel, breathing heavily you turned around and stared at the monster that cornered you. “Get behind me.” Sam demands, you raise your weapon and point it at the monster. The gun wouldn’t do much damage but it would distract for a second or two. The Wendigo slowly approaches, taking it’s time, it knew that all of you were scared. “Hey!” Dean yells, your eyes widen in surprise once you seen the monster go up in flames. It screams as his collapses to the ground and soon the noise stopped and it no longer moved. “Not bad, huh?” Sam grins, you shake your head. “You ass.” You say, crossing your arms. “You scared me.” But despite being angry at him, a smile was on your face. *** You leaned against the Impala with Sam next to you as you watched the scene in front of you. Police officers questioned Ben as Haley chatted with Dean. Red and blue lights flashed from the police cars, and Tommy laid on a gurney in the back of the ambulance. “Case closed.” You say, smiling. “A few bumpy moments but nothing we couldn’t handle.” Sam rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Case closed.” He repeated “But, don't disappear on us again.” “Like I plan to.” You scoff, gently shaking your head. “I totally have a map for going off the grid. I even bought bus tickets and guess what? I’m leaving at midnight.” You say sarcastically. “Bus tickets?” Dean asks, walking towards you and his brother “Don’t you want to ride in style?” Dean gestures to his car, a smile on his lips. “I don’t know…”You press your lips together, before a smile spread across your face. “Do I get to drive?” Dean’s smile turned into a grin as he leaned towards you, holding out the keys. Your eyes widen in surprise before you reached for the keys, just like that, his hands pulled them away. “Never.” He said, you sighed and looked away, you watched as the ambulance drove away. “Man, I hate camping.” “Me too.” Sam agrees, you shrug. “I would say the same but we never really went camping, we were stuck in some cheap motel instead of spending it outdoors relaxing.” You bit your lip, Sam looked down at his shoes as Dean looked away. “Alright boys” You say, changing the topic due to the tension between each other. “We’re going to find your dad, you know that?” Sam nods. “Yeah, I know. But in the meantime? I'm driving.” Dean tosses Sam the keys without hesitation. “Oh, come on!” You say, watching as Sam slides in behind the wheel and Dean sitting in the front seat next to him. “I have never got the chance to drive this baby in a long ass time.” Dean turns around and looks at you through the back passenger seat window. “You coming sweetheart?” He asks, a eyebrow raised. “Yeah..” You huff out a sigh before sliding into the back seat and closing the door behind you. Your arms were crossed as you leaned back and looked out the window, while Sam started the car and drove into the night.

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What We Learned: How the Penguins won the Stanley Cup

(Hello, this is a feature that will run through the entire season and aims to recap the weekend’s events and boils those events down to one admittedly superficial fact or stupid opinion about each team. Feel free to complain about it.)

One of the things to watch in this entire Stanley Cup Final series was how badly the Nashville Predators outshot the Pittsburgh Penguins.

The shot deficits in Games 1 through 4 were of good size. It was tied in Game 5, and only after Pittsburgh opened up a huge lead. Then, finally, in Game 6 — which they won in a 2-0 shutout — they had a very, very narrow edge. And one of the two shots in that narrow margin was into an empty net.

But because things were so, so lopsided early on, one must consider how extreme this kind of performance was. To get outshot by about five shots per game over a six-game series, and win it? That’s only happened one other time in recent memory.

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In the first year after the implementation of the salary cap era, the Carolina Hurricanes basically got run out of the building by the Edmonton Oilers every night. They were outshot 200-164 in seven games, but because their starting goalie got hurt in Game 1, Carolina was able to shoot nearly 12 percent for the entire series and hey, whaddayaknow, Cam Ward stood on his head at the other end.

More of less the same thing happened this time around. The Pens got outshot 174-144 over the course of this Cup Final but scored one extra goal per game (3.2-2.2), and hey, that’ll do it.

You look at that Carolina team and this Pittsburgh team and there aren’t a lot of similarities. Not a ton of superstars on for those Hurricanes, whereas the Penguins have a ton of All-Stars. Perhaps you chalk the Carolina Cup up to the weirdness of the 2005-06 season in general, and this year you just have to say, to some extent, the Penguins got lucky.

Even beyond the insanely lucky bounce Patric Hornqvist got to win the series — receipts are in on the Hornqvist/Neal trade: Pens win — the fact that Pittsburgh shot better than 13 percent, and just steamrolled Pekka Rinne at PPG Paints Arena, has to be categorized as more luck than anything else. They finish the Cup Final with the third-highest all-situations PDO, at 105.7, since the salary cap came into play, behind only Chicago two years ago (107.5!) and Boston in 2011 (107, thanks to Tim Thomas’s .967 save percentage).

Of course, any team that wins the Stanley Cup needs luck to get there, but the Penguins got it and then some. Injuries to crucial players for huge stretches of the playoffs, if not all of them, seemingly didn’t matter. They got down to their seventh defenseman, they got hemmed in by a vicious Nashville forecheck, and still the goals came.

You need elite talent to do that, no doubt. So the fact that Sidney Crosby had seven points in this Cup Final, and Evgeni Malkin had three goals, and Phil Kessel had four points, and Matt Murray had a .930 save percentage, well, the big players stepped up.

But also: Jake Guentzel (Chris Kuntiz Mk. 2) had four goals as well. Conor Sheary had two. Justin Schultz and Brian Dumoulin were the only defensemen who seemed capable of getting the puck up the ice with regularity

Hockey’s a weird sport at all times, but especially so when you’re awarding trophies based on a best-of-seven series. In a candid moment, Mike Sullivan would probably tell you the Penguins didn’t actually do enough to win this series. On the face of it, they did not. But here we are anyway. No one’s “Well actually”-ing the 2006 Cup champs, and no one would do it here and no either.

Look, this is a great Penguins team. You can fall ass-backwards into a Cup once, maybe. Twice in a row, not so much. But look at those stats above: Last year they were a bulldozer, and just put the Sharks in the dustbin for six straight games. This time around, they were the ones getting handled, and everything worked out anyway.

Crosby’s why. Malkin’s why. Kessel’s why. Murray’s why. Sullivan’s why. In fact, looking at the Penguins roster, it’s hard to find someone who didn’t contribute something meaningful in this Cup Final. Matt Cullen was solid on the PK. Ron Hainsey ate 20-plus minutes a night because no one else could. Nick Bonino scored two huge goals before he disappeared into the trainer’s room for the remainder of the series. Carl Hagelin played with his jersey on fire last night.

It’s tempting fate to try to win this way. Just about any Hockey Person will tell you that. Because it’s not just about shots on goal, but also scoring chances (Nashville had nearly 55 percent of them in all situations). Sure, Pittsburgh had a narrow edge in high-danger chances, but it was mainly because Nashville’s power play was an embarrassment for most of the series. There wasn’t anything the Penguins PK units were doing to make Nashville shoot into a pile of bodies from the top of the circle at every available opportunity, but here we are.

Look at that above list of winners again and have a look at what the Red Wings did in two straight Cup Finals to this Penguins franchise. Dominated them, both years. In fact, they even outscored the Penguins when Pittsburgh won the Cup in ’09. But sometimes you just get the bounces.

Unless you’re really interested in digging this stuff up, no one will know or care 10 years from now that the Penguins only put 24 shots on net per game. The whole “They went 37 minutes without a shot in a game they won” thing will disappear in the wind.

First back-to-back Cup winners in the cap era? First since the late-90s Red Wings All-Star teams? Yeah they got badly outshot and this probably shouldn’t have happened this way.

But to quote the guy who scored the Cup-clinching goal, “Ah, [expletive] it.”

What We Learned

Anaheim Ducks: The Ducks are 100 percent trading a defenseman. But whomstsoever should it be? (Spoiler: It should be Sami Vatanen.)

Arizona Coyotes: If they can find someone dumb enough to take Mike Smith off their hands, they should absolutely do it. How is this even a question?

Boston Bruins: I don’t know how you can write an article about the Bruins’ defensive “depth” and then say, “Will they protect Kevan Miller or Colin Miller?” Obviously the answer is Colin. Kevan is, like, very bad. What’s hard about this?

Buffalo Sabres: The Sabres want to interview Phil Housley and a couple of Pens assistants before they hire someone, and it’s tough to blame ’em. But also: uhh Darryl Sutter much?

Calgary Flames: Gotta respect Brian Burke going, “[expletive] it, mask off,” and just saying the team will move if the city doesn’t buy it a new rink. Then the team has to be like, “No no, mask on. We’re not evil, we swear!” Amazing. I love this saga. Have fun in Quebec.

Carolina Hurricanes: Eric Tulsky keeps movin’ up in the organization. Tough to blame the ‘Canes for loving what he brings to the table.

Chicago: Chicago basically has to make a trade and rumors say it’ll come real soon. One imagines that the guy they end up moving has a name that rhymes with “Sent Breabrook.”

Colorado Avalanche: I wonder if any bad contracts on the Avs end up looking a lot better once the player gets out of that black hole of an organization. Is Carl Soderberg as bad as he looked last season? I doubt it.

Columbus Blue Jackets: Have to imagine Joonas Korpisalo was basically just like, “Yeah I’m never gonna start for this team” but he also had no options since he’s only 23.

Dallas Stars: If Jamie Benn is actually great again next year, that helps a lot.

Detroit Red Wings: Gordie Howe’s name comes off the Cup next year. Just more evidence the NHL hates the Red Wings and will never ever let them be good again.

Edmonton Oilers: Good lord. Why?

Florida Panthers: Not the most flattering picture of new Panthers coach Bob Boughner here. Hahaha.

Los Angeles Kings: Lots of momentum to this Evander Kane-to-Los Angeles thing at this point. Wonder how much of it is BS.

Minnesota Wild: What do the Bruins have to give up to get Jonas Brodin? Probably something not-really-worth-it, especially given the market for young, already-signed top-four defenders. Taylor Hall trade and all that. And moreover, why would the Bruins stay in Going For It mode? That team, man.

Montreal Canadiens: It unequivocally rules that these are the only headlines around the Canadiens at this point.

Nashville Predators: These guys got straight-up boned. No other way to say it.

New Jersey Devils: Yeah I’d be really surprised if it’s the Panthers who trade for Ilya Kovalchuk.

New York Islanders: Imagine if Colorado were this dumb. The only thing to move Matt Duchene for is picks and prospects. C’mon.

New York Rangers: Turns out no one wants any of the Rangers’ crap defensemen, almost all of whom have bad contracts. Hmm. Weird.

Ottawa Senators: Honestly who cares. Semi-competent backup goalies are a dime a dozen. Mike Condon is fine. So are lots of guys. Whatever.

Philadelphia Flyers: Can’t help but feel like Shayne Gostisbehere left a lot of money on the table long-term. But hey, that contract makes him extremely easy to trade if things go sideways with this club.

Pittsburgh Penguins: Finally, Sidney Crosby is as good as Jonathan Toews.

San Jose Sharks: They’re getting closer to re-signing Marc-Edouard Vlasic, who is very good. Great news for the club.

St. Louis Blues: Mike Yeo is honestly one of those coaches where it’s like, “Seems like he’s fine.” Not sure he’s the guy to get this club over any sort of hump, but he’s not bad. I dunno. Feels like tire-spinning.

Tampa Bay Lightning: If I’m Steve Yzerman I give Vegas a second-round pick and a B prospect to please for the love of god get Ryan Callahan the hell off this team.

Toronto Maple Leafs: The Leafs are at the 50 contract limit? That seems not-wise.

Vancouver Canucks: The Canucks may want the No. 1 pick. Give New Jersey the 5, Tanev, and a decent prospect for it.

Vegas Golden Knights: Can I recommend something instead of “going all in?” How about, uhh, don’t?

Washington Capitals: Justin Williams is an American citizen now. Big mistake Justin! Get out while you can!

Winnipeg Jets: Yes, they could.

Play of the Weekend

This is a Stanley Cup-winning goal with 1:35 to go, so that’ll work.

Gold Star Award

Hmm, three Lowell guys get on the same team and that team immediately wins a Stanley Cup? Total coincidence, right? Ha ha ha.

Minus of the Weekend

This is the greatest take in the history of the universe. Difficult to top.

  18 million Americans tuned in to Comey daytime TV. Now tell me again how great those 3m audiences were for NHL in US.

— Damien Cox (@DamoSpin) June 9, 2017

Perfect HFBoards Trade Proposal of the Year

User “Kcoyote3” is after that roadrunner.

To San Jose:

Tavares


To New York:
 Couture , Dillon, 
Donskoi, 
2018 1st

Signoff

I love you Dr. Zaius!

—

  Ryan Lambert is a Puck Daddy columnist. His email is here and his Twitter is here.

(All stats via Corsica unless otherwise noted.)

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